


Harry Potter and the New Professor

by Babylon_Candle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harveture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 130,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babylon_Candle/pseuds/Babylon_Candle
Summary: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows ends up in the headmaster's study. This story begins as Harry, Ron and Hermione come down from the study to face their future.Bodies to bury, services to attend, plans to be made, sadness to face and overcome, and the fact that life rolls on no matter what.Hermione and Ron take off to restore her parent's memories while Harry finally gets time with Ginny. Harry is assigned the task of cleaning up after the battle at Hogwarts. Ron is told to get that rotten Ford Anglia out of the Forbidden Forest.Harry discovers the true meaning of love and how Harveture can get in the way. Does Harry face Harveture or not. How do his friends help, or not help.Harry is still learning and still getting in to trouble. Fortunately Minchkins the Marvel steps in to assist. And there is Krum in the wings wanting Harry to be his seeker. So, what is Harry to do???





	1. Chapter 1

Suffix

There are two parts to this story. The story that starts at the beginning of Chapter 1 and ends at the end of Chapter 18. Then there are bits tossed in that do not belong there: as in a “Magic Eye” book. Which means, if you didn’t see what should not be there, you’ve missed it and only read the excellent story I have written? Rather than trying to explain what I mean, here is an example… sort of. If I was to write…

********************

Adam Pentergrast walked along the corridor toward the Gryffindor common room. He looked hard at the portrait. The fat lady was not there. In her place was the Crimson King in all his resplendent garishness sitting on his gilded throne. At his feet were two rather large and hungry looking cheetah’s and in the galleries surrounding the throne were a throng of nodding underlings in their counter-colour black robes.  
“Don’t move,” boomed the King, Then he added in a menacing voice, “Who are you?”  
“Adam Pentergrast,” Said Adam Pentergrast. Then in a hesitant voice added, “Where is the Fat Lady?”  
“Why do you dare to ask such a question?”  
“I… I… was just wondering…”  
“Don’t wonder, young man, you better know.” He then turned aside and yelled out, “Faith, you in?”  
A young girl danced into the portrait and over to the Crimson King. “Yes, Father?”  
“Is today Monday?”  
“No father, it’s Wednesday.”  
“Oh, I really thought it was Monday.”  
“If you want it to be Monday, you can designate it as Monday,”  
The King thought and then decided, “No, better let Monday be Monday.”  
“As you wish Father.”  
The king paused before asking, “Is Fred still coming on Thursday?”  
“Yes father. Fred will be here at high noon for his usual game of battle chess.”  
The king felt life was good: despite being dead: as was all the other people in the paintings dotted about Hogwarts.  
Then the King turned his attention from Faith back to Adam Pentergrast. As he did so, his face hardened as he fired off the question, “What happened to you? You look sort of battered.”  
“Just got back from Great Osmond Street Hospital…”  
The King cut in with, “Why not St. Mungo’s”  
“Great Osmond was closer.” Said Adam as he glanced at Faith.  
Faith looked at the king, batted her eyes at the old man, then turned to Adam, and said in a kind voice, “Step inside, love.” Adam went bright red.  
“Not so fast Faith. I know this young man, aren’t you dating Gregory’s girl?”  
“Not me. I’m too young. Mother will kill me. Gregory’s still dating his girl.”  
“Just remember,” Faith said to her Father, “Only fools are kind.”  
“And I’m no fool.” He replied in a gruff voice.” Then he added, “What’s the password, young man?”  
“Young animals.” Was his firm reply.  
The door opened and Adam stumbled as he entered. The stumble quickly turned into an ignominious flop on the floor causing everyone to turn around and look at Adam flat on his face just inside the common room door.  
Ron yelled out, “Our local hero is back.”  
A couple of senior students swiftly zoomed up the stairs, picked up the pitiful looking Adam, and carried him down on their shoulders. As he was put down he asked, “Is Frampton alive?”  
One of the seniors said, “He is doing just fine. You got the snitch and he crunched into the pitch. It was one of the better crunches we’ve seen in a long time.” The smile on the seniors face said it all. We won, they lost!  
A couple of the other boys started the usual chant of, “A rolling stone, a rolling stone, will gather no moss, no moss.”  
Adam smiled as he remembered the Quidditch game: it was a good game despite the above average rough and tumble.

********************

If you read the above, it seems reasonable that it is part of a larger story. However, there are over ten items in it that are totally bogus. That is, items that has a secondary or even tertiary meaning, which meanings are totally out pf place. It could be a single word, adjacent words, words that are in close proximity, sayings, etc., Yes, I know, totally bazaar. However, it makes writing much more fun: and we need more fun these days.  
If you miss the other meanings, don’t worry, you have read an excellent story that I wrote.  
In this book, Harry Potter and the New Professor, they are there. In the next book, Harry Potter and the Harveture Conundrum they are far more abundant and more in your face. Good luck finding them.

********************

 

Friday May 2 1998

Death is never an end  
Only the beginning of the  
Greatest adventure ever.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the headmaster’s study as they found it, in a mess. Carefully they walked down the spiral staircase, over the toppled gargoyle and back into the battle scared corridor of Hogwarts.  
In a disjointed voice the gargoyle asked, “Are you finished?”  
“I would say so for now,” replied Ron  
“Good. Then I shall stand guard until help arrives.”  
“Oh, sorry,” said Harry as he fished out his wand, his newly repaired wand. With a flourish of wand movements, new even to Hermione, Harry said, “Repaious Origialtious”  
The statue slowly rose from its tilted position back to guarding the entrance to the headmaster’s office. “Thank you,” the gargoyle said to Harry. Ron thought he saw the statue give Harry a little bow, then again, it was dusty and the light was playing tricks.  
“Where did you learn that one?” a curious Hermione asked Harry as they headed down a corridor to the Gryffindor tower. “We’ve never learned that one in class.”  
“Just like Bellatrix said, ‘you have to mean it.’”  
“You made it up?”  
“Not made it up, just thought it was appropriate at the moment.”  
Hermione was about to ask another question then realized this was not the time or place. It was, however, time to sleep. It had been a long night.  
They walked quietly to the Gryffindor tower. The minute the fat lady saw who was coming, she smartened herself up, gave a grateful curtsey then said, “Always open for Mr. Potter,” as the entrance opened wide to let the three of them in. Harry scrambled off to bed to give Ron and Hermione time to say goodnight: or rather good morning after the fight of their lives.  
Dozing on the well-padded chair next to Harry’s bed was Kreacher. Around his neck hung Regulus Black’s locket. He looked battered and bruised with several thick pads applied over what looked like battle scars.  
Sleep left Harry and he quickly approached the resting Kreacher. As he did so, Kreacher’s eyes opened and a smile crossed the old house elf’s face. “We won!” he said. His bullfrog’s voice was still rough from all the yelling during the battle.  
“We certainly did,” Harry said. Harry knew without everyone else the chance to kill the snake might not have happened. Once the snake was gone, his time to face his enemy had come. It was a team effort. Harry added, “Rest now old friend. No more battles for you until you are better!” Kreacher smiled and settled down.  
Harry was about to climb into bed when he had a big idea. He fished into his pouch that was still around his neck and pulled out the wand he won from Draco. “Here,” he said to Kreacher, “I want you to look after this for me. Keep it clean and ready for use.”  
Despite his aches and pains, Kreacher sat bolt upright and said, “A wand! Kreacher looking after a wizard’s wand! Such an honor. Kreacher will keep it safe for his master.” With that, Harry collapsed onto his bed knocking his glasses to one side of his face. He was asleep in an instant.  
Thus ended one of the longest and most tumultuous night of Harry’s short life.  
A fifth year boy gently shook Harry. The dream Harry was having was a particularly good one. Harry and Ginny were having ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour at Diagon Alley. Tucked away in his pocket was a ring he had specially made for Ginny. He was waiting for the ice cream to be finished before showing Ginny the ring and asking her an important question. That is when the fifth year woke him. The fifth year boy had never been part of the dream, so where did he come from? Very slowly reality set in and Harry was forced to realize he had not shown Ginny the ring.  
“Ah, Harry… Sorry to bother you. Professor McGonagall asked me to find you and let you know she would like to see you in her office,” he paused for a moment then added, “As soon as I found you, that is. For you to go there.”  
It was a struggle for Harry to say, “Okay, I’m on my way.” Without moving an inch.  
Over on the other side of the room Ron was still sound asleep with a silly grin on his face. Harry thought he was having a good dream.  
The fifth year student then added, “I’m supposed to wait here for you.” Harry didn’t hear a word; he was back asleep trying to remember the dream he was having. He remembered it was a particularly good dream, but couldn’t remember the details at this exact moment. The fifth year gave Harry a push and then another push. The dream Harry was trying to find wasn’t coming back. Some rotten person was bothering him and he was not amused.  
“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m awake. It better be important.” Harry said in an irritable voice.  
“Ah, it is, I think.”  
“You think? You are waking me up because you think!”  
“Ah, it is Professor McGonagall who wants to see you… not me.”  
“Oh yeh, you did say.” With that, Harry pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He sat there remembering the last days of his short life and the salient fact that Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle, was dead.  
It slowly dawned on Harry that part of Lord Voldemort’s mystique was his persona under the name of Lord Voldemort. That anagram allowed Tom to hide his real identity and the fact that he came from a muggle father and a wizard mother. A name that allowed Tom to shroud himself in mystery, mayhem, to take advantage of people who wanted something for nothing. A commodity Tom could offer in abundance so long as his death eaters did his bidding.  
In that moment, Harry decided no more He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No more Lord Voldemort. No more the Dark Lord. Harry chose to call him by his given name, Tom Riddle. Sadly Tom Riddle, an orphan wizard, seduced by the dark arts, failed to understand what he lost by going down that wide path to his destruction.  
With a little shiver, Harry kicked himself into action. As he stood up, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was a total mess; glasses on at a slight angle; wrinkled shirt needing a good wash; robes a total mess; trousers dirty with mud and grass on the leg bottoms and shoes with clods of mud sticking to them. He smiled at the image and the image smiled back.  
Making sure he still had two wands tucked safely away Harry and the fifth year student headed toward Professor McGonagall’s office. Harry was surprised that the mess had not been cleared away. The teachers of Hogwarts were good and brave wizards so why was there such a mess about? They walked quickly toward the office passing very few students. When they arrived the fifth year student knocked and the door flew open to reveal Hagrid just about to leave Professor McGonagall’s office.  
“Harry!” exclaimed Hagrid then grabbed Harry in a huge hug. The hug was big enough that Harry couldn’t say anything until Hagrid let him go. “Yer did good, didn’t yer! Killed the vermin like he deserved after he killed you… sorta.” Then Hagrid got serious, “Never had to carry anybody like that. ‘Cept Dumbledore, of course. Not nice what he did and what I had to do. Made me upset.”  
“You did your part just fine. And I was glad you didn’t drop me, plop, onto the ground.”  
“Never knew Neville ‘ad it in him to stan' up to Moldy Voldy. ‘E was amazin.”  
Harry smiled at the newly coined nickname for Tom. “Yep he was brilliant and gave me the chance I needed.”  
“Oh yea… when you did that I didn’t know what to think.”  
Cutting into the congratulatory conversation Professor McGonagall said, “Hagrid, are you leaving or are you staying?”  
“Oh, sorry professor, I was goin’ until Harry was here.”  
“Then I would say you are going.”  
“Yea professor.” Then Hagrid turned to Harry and added, “And congratulations Harry, you will do well.”  
Harry wasn’t sure what Hagrid meant as Hagrid stepped out and Harry stepped in.  
Professor McGonagall was slumped in her chair behind her desk. She looked like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Thank you Edwards. You may go.” Once the boy had been dismissed Professor McGonagall straightened up and turned to look at Harry. It was as if it was the very first time she had seen him. Her cat like eyes looking deep into his soul. Studying it, analyzing it, and weighing it in the balance. Finally she said, “Well, Mr. Potter, it seems you have successfully killed Lord Voldemort. Hearty congratulations.”  
“The congratulations are not all mine, Professor. I needed help. In the end it was a team effort. Dumbledore’s army, Hermione, Ron, and even Draco’s mother. Oh yes, Neville… It was Neville that killed the snake. He killed the last bit of protection Tom had. Without all these, and others, I couldn’t have done it.  
“Very commendable, just what Dumbledore would expect from you. Now I must bring you up-to-date with what has happened since this morning. First Lord Voldemort…  
“Please Professor;” cut in Harry, “Can we call him by his proper name, Tom Riddle? In the end he was nothing special but a lie built on another lie.”  
Professor McGonagall looked at Harry with renewed interest. Again she studied him closely. Eventually she added, “If you choose.” She let the statement hang there in significance. Then she moved on with, “Then the body of Tom Riddle has been removed to the grave yard at Azcaban. He and Bellatrix have been placed in the Pit of Endless Sorrows. Once he died, his death eater followers quickly gave up and are currently in Azcaban awaiting trial. The trials will be swift. Death eaters that died during the battle will also be buried in Azcaban, in unmarked graves. Second item. As you may have noticed, not all the destruction to this great building has been repaired. Tom Riddle used some spells that we are not familiar with and seek your assistance in rectifying the situation. Thirdly, this is technically your final year at Hogwarts. At the end of each year there is a graduation ceremony commemorating the success of those students. Now we all recognize you had important work to do this past year and as acting headmaster I feel it is within my powers, and Professor Dumbledore concurs, that you should be allowed to graduate along with all your fellow class mates who were in the forefront of all the extracurricular activities we have been going through. And lastly I’m afraid, next year, we are going to be short a teacher for Defense against the Dark Arts and were hoping you would take the post… for a year at least.”  
Harry had been following closely to Professor McGonagall’s list until the last one, “Hang on a minute, I haven’t graduated yet and you want me to teach… here… as a professor?”  
“Of course. You are eminently qualified, skillful, resourceful, and the most admired wizard in the wizarding community. And you will be earning money that I think will come in most handy for the upcoming happy event.”  
“What happy event?”  
“Mr. Potter, I might be a bit old, but I still can see. See between you and Miss. Weasley. Lord… Oops, Tom Riddle, of course, did not see it. He was blind to that type of magic. A few of us did see something. And while we are talking of Miss. Weasley, she still has a year to go and would not be attending any of your classes. Other arrangements would be made for her.”  
“You really think I could do it, Professor?”  
“There is no one better suited for the position. Once word gets out I would not be surprised if we are not over run with single girls all wanting to take your classes. I suspect some heavy vetting will be required to keep out the more undesirable elements. You know, the ones that throw themselves at heroes.”  
On hearing that Harry perked up and said, “Really?”  
“Yes, really. Didn’t you remember how it was when we had Gilderoy Lockhart flitting in and out at all hours of the day and night. Book signings here and there. Interviews all over the place. Girls swooning at his smile! Heavens, he was gone more than he was here! And when he was here, what were you two doing? Book signing. Hopefully St, Mungo’s will never find a cure for him.”  
Pensively Harry replied with, “I think I’d better think about it. I mean, a professor. Me. You really think I can do it?”  
“I think you be fine, just fine.”  
A grin spread across Harry’s face. It started on one side and did not stop until it reached the other side. “I’ll better be going and thinking about it.”  
“And the spells.”  
“Got it.” On that note Harry got up and with a spring in his step, walked out and into the disarray at Hogwarts. His newly acquired sunshine evaporated into the dust and stillness hanging over Hogwarts.  
Harry headed to the great hall.  
As he expected the families of the fallen had arrived to claim their own. Virtually all were gone. Down the far end was the family of Collin Creevey. When Harry entered the hall the entire family stood up as one. Collin’s father walked over to Harry and said, “Thank you for looking after our boy. He was so proud to be at Hogwarts at the same time as you. He never missed a Quidditch game or a practice you were in. He loved to watch and take photos of you zooming about. ‘No one better’ he would say of you” For one brief moment Harry thought of the resurrection stone: and then the thought vanished into the emptiness of what it does “We were wondering if you could help us. Collin sent us an owl just before the fighting got underway. He said if he died he would like to be buried at Hogwarts. And if he lived he would like to become a professor at Hogwarts. He loved this place that much.”  
Harry’s heart was heavy with sadness that he thought Collin and his camera a pest to be avoided. Now he was seeing Collin as another soul finding the joys of Hogwarts. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” Harry said with a deep conviction.  
“Thank you Mr. Potter, thank you.” Mr. Creevey gave Harry a big hug and then went back to his family giving them the thumbs up sign. That is when Harry felt fingers interlacing with his. Ginny was standing by his side. A flood of emotions swept over him. Ginny, his Ginny, his battle scared Ginny standing next to him.  
They stood for a while, hand in hand before Ginny broke the spell with, “You’re needed up in the library. Hermione thinks she has found the spells Voldemort used on Hogwarts.” They took off hand in hand towards the library. As they climbed the stairs Harry ran the fingers of his free hand along the wall. He could feel the strangeness of the spells still attacking the walls. It was like the spells were slowly eating away at the very stones of Hogwarts until all is digested and Hogwarts would be a pile of dust. As they climbed up the stairs words came to his mind. Parseltongue words of a very old kind. Words he had never heard before: Words that, somehow, were not unfamiliar to him.  
Suddenly Harry stopped. Ginny stopped, looked at Harry, and said, “What is it?”  
“Words. I can sort of feel the words on the stones. When I do this,” Harry brushed his hand along the stones, “I can hear words.”  
“What does it say?”  
“That’s the problem, I’m not sure. Never happened before.”  
“Do you think it has anything to do with the spells?”  
“Expect so. Let’s go and see what Hermione has found, maybe it will help.” With that they rushed up the stairs to the library As they entered, Madam Pince with her protégé Miss Evangelista came zooming round the bookshelves to challenge the sudden noise. Once Madam Pince saw who it was she commented in a sharp voice, “I expect you are here to see Miss, Granger. She’s over there, in the restricted section.” With the toss of her head her underfed vulture features moved onward to peck on some other unsuspecting student silly enough to be in the library when there was no need. Miss Evangelista gave Harry a curious look as she quickly followed Madam Pince carrying a rather large and dusty book.  
“About time, where have you been?” Hermione said. “This is great, I don’t have to sneak about any more. I can sit up here and enjoy myself.”  
Harry was thinking Quidditch on a windy day and Draco on the other team would be his type of fun. That way he could punch Draco every time he got too close.  
“What have you found?” Ginny asked.  
“It is not what I have found; it is what I have not found. Some of the pages of this book are missing. Actually carefully cut out. Then again it might be nothing.”  
Ginny continued with, “What book is that?”  
“Wizard Architecture and Quidditch Stadiums. It used to be a text book here years ago when some professor wanted to bring new ideas to Quidditch stadium construction.”  
“Really?” said Harry. He never thought about Quidditch stadium construction. Growing up without Quidditch left him a bit short in the lore and history of the game. He did know about the local football pitches he walked about to kill time before he had to go back home to face the Dursley’s. Of all the teams professional he favored the Southampton Saints, as he liked the name: it gave him hope, and he needed hope. He never went to a professional football game just followed along at 4:50 pm every Saturday on the TV.  
“It has a thick section on curses and counter-curses. Seems there is quite a lot of gambling going on at games. To protect the game the officials have to make sure the game is clean by making sure special protection spells and counter-curses are in place before the teams can enter the stadium.”  
“Are you sure about this?” Harry asked in a surprised voice. “I mean to say, who would do this?”  
Hermione looked up and replied with, “Don’t you remember your first year and Quirrell?”  
“Oh yeh,. I forgot.”  
“And we thought it was Professor Snape.”  
“Got it wrong, didn’t we.” Harry said in a down tone.  
“We got it really wrong.” Agreed Hermione  
The recent revelations from Professor Snape had not settled well with Harry. He knew it was all true, he also knew it will take time to absorb and accept. From his first encounter with Professor Snape Harry had hated him. Hate matured into deep loathing and then into a desire to kill him as he had killed Professor Dumbledore. Now his limited perspective was shattered. Harry was being forced to reassess Professor Snape and how he treated the man who loved his mother and lost her to his father.  
Hermione brought Harry back to the present with, “There is a list of known protection spells with the type of protection they give and the gambling spells they are designed to thwart. Some of them seem to resemble what is going on here.”  
Ginny chipped in with a question, “Why is the magic still here? Why didn’t it just go away once the battle was over?”  
Harry was surprised by the simple salient question.  
Still flipping pages Hermione replied in a matter of fact voice with, “It is a common misconception that magic always has an end. Like doing the dishes. Once done, the spell is over. That is not the case with battles. Like the fight between Dumbledore and Grendelwald. As great as the dual is claimed to be, Grendelwald should have won as he had the Death Stick, the invincible Death Stick. Why Dumbledore was victorious has been discussed in a few exoteric publications of limited circulations. This library has them all over there in a neat pile recently returned from Dumbledore’s office.” Hermione was pointing to a neat pile close by. She continued with, “Once the dual was over and Grendelwald’s followers were defeated, it took between two to ten weeks, depending who you believe, to remove all the magic still at the battle site.”  
“I never knew you had to clean up after a battle,” Ginny said thoughtfully.  
“Only if dark magic is used. Seems some wizards wanted to add delaying actions or repeating actions or even morphing components to spells and it grew into a specialized area of dark magic.”  
“Really?” said Harry. This was all news to him.  
“Humm… I read about it a year or so ago.” Hermione muttered as she kept flipping pages as she skimmed on through the book. With a loud bang she closed the book and, with a swish of her wand, let it float back to the bookshelf from whence it came.  
Hermione turned to Harry and asked, “Harry, you grew up with Muggles, did you ever go to Stonehenge?”  
“No, I never went anywhere with the Dursley’s. They thought I was some sort of scum to be left behind.”  
“But you have heard of Stonehenge?”  
“Of course everyone has and seen it on the news every midsummer and midwinter.”  
“Wait a minute,” Cut on Ginny, “What is Stonehenge?”  
“Really Ginny, you’re just like Harry, sleeping through History of Magic during your first year!”  
“No I didn’t,” was Ginny’s indignant reply. “Just felt that my time could be better spent in some other pursuit.”  
“Seems like you got it.” Quipped Hermione. Three seconds later Ginny also got it and turned a bright red to match her hair. Harry had to turn around to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up. He was enjoying the friendly batter going on between the girls.  
Trying to regain some decorum, Ginny said, “And what of Stonehenge?”  
“As you all know Stonehenge is really old. Made by people we know nothing about, using techniques little understood by the Muggle world, and then they vanishing.” Looking from one blank face to the other, Hermione added, “Don’t you see? This was a wizard’s place from the beginning, and still is. Think of 12 Grimmauld Place. Wizards can see it while Muggles can’t. So, is it there or not there? Do the Muggles see everything at Stonehenge or just what they are allowed to see?  
“I once went with my parents and then on a school outing. Both times I kept seeing things out the corner of my eye. Something was there, and then gone when I turned to look properly. Is it there or not? And as you both know, or should know, Stonehenge is steeped in wizard histology, anthropology, legend, myth and fact.  
“What we know is what we can see. Which really isn’t much. Wizards back then weren’t diligent record keepers. What we believe centers on the Time of Completion. Legend has it that when Stonehenge was finally completed, the Time of Completion, there was an impasse between the builders and the people who paid to have it built. And as you might have guessed, legend has it the builders were goblins while the people who paid to have it built were wizards. And, as we know too well, goblins concept of ownership is not the same as that of wizards. The chief goblin stone-carver could feel the power of Stonehenge and felt he and his fellow goblins should hang on to the place since they, according to their way of thinking, owned it.  
“Of course the wizards felt they technically owned Stonehenge since they had commissioned the goblins to build it, and had clothed, fed, housed and generally looked after the goblins during construction.”  
“Legend has it because of this impasse there was a great battle at Stonehenge between goblins and wizards. It was touch and go on both sides. And you have to remember, back then goblins and wizards were pretty evenly matched.  
“Legend has it the battle ended when a mother saw her son fall. She defied both sides by running right through the middle of it all to gather the dead body in her arms. Her wailing caused the sides to think what they were doing to each other and they withdrew leaving mothers of both sides to cry over their dead. It is that mournful sound that is still there today. No magic is powerful enough to erase that sadness from Stonehenge.  
“And Legend has it that is why people from all over the world are pulled to Stonehenge. Pulled there to help a mother morn for her lost child.”  
“Didn’t know that.” Harry mumbled.  
“Of course you don’t. During history lessons you were just finding out about Quidditch. I remember it well.”  
“Really,” chimed in Ginny. She was always interested in hearing about Harry during his first year at Hogwarts. “The way Ron tells it you were born with a broom in your hand.”  
“Ahh, slight exaggeration there. On a broom by my first birthday though.” Harry’s demeanor suddenly changed as he thought about the lost birthdays from age two to ten. A time when young kids need birthdays the most. Ginny saw the change and put her arms around Harry’s neck and looked closely at him. He was avoiding eye contact so Ginny gave him a hug, a long hug, one that Harry needed.  
Hermione watched Harry and Ginny and felt a twinge of jealousy. How often had it been Harry and her in a mutually beneficial hug? From the time they met until Ron finally got his act together.  
As if on cue, Ron came stomping into the library and over to where they were. “Blimy, that old bat of a librarian didn’t recognize me! What’s the world coming to? How couldn’t she know who I am? I have the Weasley hair, look and mother who blasted Bellatrix into the next world.”  
Hermione’s world brightened up. Ron sauntered over and lifted Hermione out of her chair by holding on to her two hands. “And what is the most beautiful girl on the world doing in the library?”  
Hermione beamed back with, “Still looking for a good book to read.”  
“I think you have found the right place.”  
“Much better now I can legally wander through all the restricted sections. No more sneaking about at midnight with a candle.”  
“Who knows what you might find lurking in some page of an old book.”  
“What ever it is I’m sure you would want to know.”  
Ron wasn’t so sure so he changed the subject. “Anyway, guess where I’ve been.” Ron said with gusto. Since he got nothing but bland stares he added, “Been to see Professor McGonagall. Actually some toerag of a fifth year woke me and said Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to me. You know what she wants me to do? Do you?”  
Getting frustrated by all these questions Hermione whopped him on the other arm and said, “Get on with it without all the silly questions. What did she want?”  
“Owe, that hurt!”  
“It will hurt more if you don’t get a move on!”  
“Okay, okay. No need to go on like that. I was just saying she wants me to get rid of the Ford Anglia. Seems it has become a pest in the forest ever since Dumbledore died and now it has to be removed.”  
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Harry said in disbelief.  
“No, Professor McGonagall made it pretty clear I had to do it since I brought it here and didn’t return it to my dad.”  
“How are you going to do it?”  
“Absolutely no idea mate. That is where you and Hermione come in.”  
“Oh no, not me!” Hermione said emphatically. “I never came by car, only you two did. So I think it would be better if you two remove it from the forbidden forest on your own.”  
“Don’t worry Harry, I’ll help you.” Ginny said.  
“Whoa now,” Harry quickly said, “It’s not me who is going to need the help. Going to be Ron here.”  
“Why me?” Asked Ron.  
“Didn’t you say Professor McGonagall told you to do it?” Harry said in dry voice.  
“Yes.”  
“Then you better do it… right.”  
“What! You’re not going to help?”  
“I have some catching up to do.” Harry said as he squeezed Ginny’s hand. “I think you can handle it quite nicely. So long as it doesn’t mean messing around with Aragog’s lot.”  
Suddenly Ron turned pale at the sound of Aragog’s name. Ron hated spiders and the thought of his old Anglia in collusion with the spiders made his stomach quite queasy.  
“I think I better sit down.” Ron muttered thinly. “I don’t feel too good.”  
“Harry, that’s not nice of you,” Hermione said as she put her arm round Ron. “I think you owe Ron an apology. You didn’t mind riding in the car to Hogwarts. If I remember rightly, you two were quite proud of your escapade. I think you should help Ron on this one Harry.”  
Ginny gave Harry’s hand a squeeze to let him know she felt the same. The Anglia story might be Wheasley inspired, but Harry was the cause, copilot and coconspirator.  
Once he knew how Ginny felt Harry chimed in with, “So long as Hagrid comes along I’m game for a few weeks traipsing through the forest chasing a car.”  
“Blimey, do you really think it will take weeks?” Ron replied in surprise.  
“Don’t know. How many cars have you chased down?”  
“She made it sound easy. Like a quick wave of the wand and, bingo, all done.”  
“Ron, look at me,” Ginny said. “Think of this as one of mother’s little jobs that shouldn’t take more than five minutes that ends up taking all day. Think like that and you will get the picture of what you are up against.”  
“Thank you very much for your words of encouragement.”  
“Ron, she’s only trying to help.” Hermione added.  
Ron didn’t see it that way. A quick trip to the edge of the forbidden forest had suddenly mushroomed in to a fully fledged campaign traipsing through the forest for months on end trying to find a Ford Anglia that’s gone feral.  
Seeing his friend looking down, Harry piped in with, “Ron, we can do this. All we have to do is get some help on our side. Hagrid knows the forest and the people who live there. Someone will know something about the car. We need to get more people looking than just us four.”  
Ron brightened up a bit at the thought of not being alone in the forbidden forest with a gazillion spiders all looking at him with hungry eyes. The battle of Hogwarts, as it came to be called, was still too fresh in his mind to have any serious perspective on the Anglia, the forest or the spiders at the moment.  
While interlocking fingers with Hermione, Ron asked, “So, what have you lot been up to in the library?”  
Hermione quickly explained to Ron that they were trying to find why type of dark Magic curses are still lingering about after the battle so they can get rid of them before they do further damage to the buildings at Hogwarts.  
“I didn’t know that!” Ron said with a touch of worry in his voice. “Spells skulking about waiting for you. Sounds like dirty tricks if you ask me.”  
“I always thought dirty tricks were to be saved for Wednesday.” Harry quickly countered with.  
“Dirty pool, not dirty trick.” corrected Ron  
“Oh yeh, I always get those two mixed up.” Sighed Harry.  
“What are you two driveling on about?” Hermione said in a loud voice that rattled about the quiet library. “We have work to do!”  
“Okay, okay… keep your shirt on.” Ron said, “Just making sure Harry and I are still on the same page.” Harry grinned at Ron and Ron grinned back at Harry. Yep, they were on the same page.  
That was when Hermione suddenly remembered Red Caps and quickly made a note to see if they could have anything to do with the spells still holding on to the old building.


	2. Chapter 2

Some people think Quidditch  
Is a matter of life and death.   
I assure you, it’s   
Much more serious than that.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

The fifth year boy made enough noise entering the library for a whole herd of Groffinheads to sneak in. He said, “Hello, anybody there?”  
Ron quickly jumped up and ran one way while Harry said, “Over here,” In a loud voice.  
“Where’s that?” The fifth year boy said with a slight tremor in his voice.  
“In the restricted section. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. We’re all here. Just follow my voice.” replied Harry. The girls gave Harry a dirty look as they did not approve of practical jokes in the library.  
The footsteps of the boy got louder and louder as he approached the restricted section. Since very few pupils had been that way very few knew what a labyrinth the restricted section was.  
And that was when Ron struck. There was a loud crack of lightning; the smell of sulfur and a ghastly image of a ghoul cast right in front of the poor unsuspecting boy. All that was too much. With a loud howl the fifth year boy turned and sprinted out of the library at top speed yelling, “Save me! Help! Save me!”  
Harry broke into a wide grin and said, “Brilliant!” to Ron when he appeared.  
“That was not funny Ron.” Hermione said. “He is only the messenger boy until things get sorted out.”  
“Messenger boy for who?”  
“A messenger boy for whom?” Said a very unhappy and unamused Madam Pince. Then she quickly added, “I don’t take kindly to Weasley jokes and especially ones played in the library. I suggest you all go down to the castle entrance and help establish some semblance of order about here.” Since no one was moving she added, “Move how, all of you, before I turn you into toads which no one would kiss!”  
All four quickly scrambled to their feet, gathered up their notes and departed the library to find out what was going on in the castle entrance. They hurried along to the top of the stairs where they came to a sudden stop. From the bottom of the stairs all the way out the large castle doors were two rows of owls. There were too many owls to count. Walking between the owls was Professor McGonagall casting spell after spell over them.   
Looking up at the four she calmly said, “Thank you for joining us. It Seems, Mr. Potter, that everyone has an opinion on you. These owls are all yours Mr. Potter.”   
“Mine!”  
“If I were to hazard a guess, someone let slip our conversation and these letters are the result.”  
“Our conversation?” Harry said with a totally bemused look on his face.  
“Teaching?” was Professor McGonagall pointed remark.  
“I’ve said nothing to nobody.” Harry said very quickly.  
“Then others must have spilled the proverbial beans.” Said Professor McGonagall as she kept casting spells on the owls to keep them still. “It seems the owls to your left are Howlers from those who think it is a bad choice and wish to so state. The owls to your right are from those who think it is a very good idea and what to congratulate you in a somewhat personal way. Hundreds of the run-of-the-mill type letters are all up in your tower awaiting your reply.”  
“I have befuddled all the owls. That makes thing a bit easier to organize. I have combined all the Howlers into one very large Howler. You are going to need good ear muffs. It will be unbearably loud. Better to have one loud one rather than a long line of one Howler after another. On the other side are all Smooches’ owls. Pretty intimidating lot. Again, I have combined all the individual Smooches’ into one rather large Smooch to get it done and out of the way.”  
“What’s a Smooch?” Ron asked Hermione aside.  
Hermione rolled her eyes up. Lately Ron had made great progress: however, there were serious gaps in his boy - girl relationship knowledge. “It’s like a love letter, but not quite one. Sort of showing signs of deep interest but not to professing total and undying love. And the envelope must have SWALK written on the back in deep red ink. Without the SWALK on the back it is not a Smooch letter.” Hermione knew Ron did not get the SWALK bit so she quickly added, “Sealed with a loving kiss.”  
“Oh, I get it.” Ron beamed.  
“Glad you do.” Then Hermione quickly added, “Don’t get any ideas and don’t send me any:.. or I’ll brain you!”  
“Glad you told me that.” Ron said with a big grin on his face. That’s one braining he’d enjoy!  
“So let’s get going,” Professor Slughorn said to Harry. The professor was still in his bath robes. “Haven’t seen one of these in many years. Very understanding and commendable for you to do this. Many lesser wizards would walk away and hide.”  
“What do I do?” Asked Harry.  
“Very simple, my boy. You walk down the line and pay each owl for bringing their letter. Then, as Professor McGonagall has said, go outside and choose which one you want to face first. The mega Howler or the mega Smooch.”  
Finally Ginny asked, “What have you done?” Ron and Hermione were also looking hard at Harry, wondering when he had time to get into trouble since the end of the battle.  
“I’ve done nothing!”  
“Nothing as in nothing, or nothing as in maybe nothing?” Ron said in a deadpan voice. “Everybody knows this many owls was not a ‘nothing’, this was a big ‘something’”.  
Harry totally ignored Ron’s searching comments as he looked at the long line of owls stretching out the door. This was not how he expected the day to progress. Harry drew in a deep breath and descended the stairs to stand next to Professor McGonagall. “Professor, I don’t have any money on me.” He said in a very small voice.  
“Don’t worry Mr. Potter we always keep a secret stash for such emergencies.” Professor McGonagall pulled out a small bag of coins and handed it to Harry. Then she added, “You can pay me back later.”  
Everyone was still milling about Hogwarts so they just eased over to see what was going on with all the owls. Amongst the throngs was, of course, Rita Skeeter scratching away for dear life. This was too good a story to miss.  
Slowly, Harry started walking down the long line of owls. When he got to an owl it would rise up to his height that way he could easily drop a single Knut into their purse tied to its leg. Once done, the owl would descend back to the ground. It was a long somber walk Harry had to take. Seeing his plight Ginny ran after him, scooped up a handful of coins and started going down the other line of owls. The minute she did that those who were watching put two and two together, especially since it was not Hermione helping Harry, and reached four.  
Once all the owls were paid off Harry went outside the main entrance looking at the two huge objects simmering and stretching in the sun. Harry looked from one to the other. One was bad and the other was worse. Rather than try to trick his way out of this, Harry decided to face his destiny. If he could face and defeat Tom Riddle, then this surely was going to be a piece of cake.  
“Howler first.” Harry said with confidence. He took the offered ear muffs then covered the ear muffs with his hands. He stood about thirty feet back from the huge red Howler and then said, “Ready!”  
At that Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the spell holding the huge Howler evaporated. The large Howler was an amalgamation of all the individual Howlers. The noise of all the Howlers going off at the same time was so violent that it blew Harry back at least twenty feet. The hundred plus Howlers all going off at the same time made it impossible to hear any specific one. Regardless, Harry knew he was not the most favorite soon to be named professor at Hogwarts. Ginny rushed over to help Harry get to his feet. She looked at him and he looked at her. Harry clearly recognized her concern. Harry gave Ginny a quick nod and then took off to face the second conglomeration of letters.  
The huge Smooch was just like a pair of puckered up lips waiting to be Smooched. Again Harry stood well back, got ready and yelled, “Ready!”  
At that Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the huge Smooch ran at Harry enveloping him. Harry felt like he was suffocating in a flood of kisses, hugs, hands patting his hair and the like. It did not feel good. Actually it felt nasty as there was so much so fast. As suddenly as it came it popped into oblivion. Ginny reached him with Hermione and Ron coming a distant third.  
“Blimy mate, what have you been doing? That looked nasty.” Ron said as he tried to help brush off the smooch goo that still clung to Harry’s robes, hair, glasses and just about everything else. Before Harry got up camera flash bulbs were going off. At least one of the photographs was sure to make the front page of the Daily Prophet.   
While trying to look somewhat respectable Professor McGonagall said, in a somewhat conciliatory tone, “Mr. Potter, one moment, if you please.” Harry went over for the private conversation. “We have issued an owl warning clearly stating all Howlers and Smooches better stay away. None should get through, but there is always a rogue owl hell bent on doing its job. Even owls like a challenge now and again. So expect one or two. And please let me know at your earliest convenience once you have made up your mind if you accept or not. That way I have time to find your replacement.”   
“If I do accept,” Harry asked, “Which office would I get?”  
“Professor Snape’s office. Was there any doubt?” With that Professor McGonagall started back toward into Hogwarts. She still had work to do.  
Harry stood still thinking that this day was going by so fast that the dual he fought just a few brief hours before seemed a lifetime ago.  
The others gathered around Harry. Ginny slipped her hand into his while Ron leaned on Harry’s shoulder and said, “Well mate, what on earth have you been up to? I mean, when have you had time to get into trouble without us?”  
“Ginny cut in with, “Harry hasn’t had time to get into trouble. All he has done has seen Professor McGonagall.”  
“Well, that explains everything,” Ron said in a voice full of fatality. “What did you two talk about?  
Harry told them what Professor McGonagall had listed. To which Ron replied with, “Struth, you a full professor… no way!”  
“Why not?” Mused Hermione. “Then he would have time to clear out the spells and chase down a rogue Ford Anglia.”  
“I was not asked to do the Anglia,” Harry said, “Ron was.”  
“But I’m not going to be here, am I? You are.” countered Ron.  
Not wanting to get stuck with additional work Harry replied with, “Since you are now of age you can pop over whenever you have a spare minute and since you don’t have a job you might as well stay here until something comes along. And in the meanwhile you can get busy tracking down the Anglia. I mean to say, all you have to do is follow the wheel tracks. Only a car makes tracks like a tyre.”  
“Sorry to cut in on the mutual appreciation society meeting,” Ginny said, “But if you remember I still have a year to go and don’t want a brother lurching about looking for a lousy car.”  
Harry quickly added, “He could stay with Hagrid: nice and close to where the car is hiding.” The smile on his face was too big to make the suggestion a serious one.  
“I think,” Hermione said slowly, “I think we need to work this out together rather than pushing each other under the train. If what you are saying will happen, Harry and Ginny will be here all next year. Ron and I would come over regularly and Ron can take the lead in the Anglia with all of us helping.”  
A general agreement descended on the four as they walked slowly down to Hagrid’s cottage as Harry wanted to speak with him.  
Harry banged loudly on the door and the silence was profound. Harry looked at the others and tried again. Again silence greeted them. Rather than bang on the door Harry tried the door handle. The door opened and there sitting by the fire was a very contrite Hagrid. Fang was sitting right beside him in a quiet and subdued manner.  
Hagrid slowly got up but couldn’t face Harry when he said, “Harry, I’m sorry… I mighta said somethin’ to Grawp an’ maybe someone else in passin’. I jus’ wanted to share the good news that you are goin’ to be a professor next year.”  
“Hagrid, don’t worry, Tom Riddle was a whole lot worse: and I’m still here. Being a teacher can’t be all that bad.”  
Hermione tapped Harry on the shoulder and said, “Harry, remember Crabbe and Goyle… what if you get their brothers?”  
“Won’t ‘appen,” Hagrid said. “They were the last. Anyways their parents are in Azkaban waitin’ their trial before they get sent back fo’ a longer time. Don’t think too many people will cross wands with this ‘ere ‘Arry.”  
“I hope your right Hagrid.” Hermione said carefully. “If someone does I’m sure you will be there to help Harry.”  
“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be there to ‘elp.” Beamed Hagrid.  
“While we are talking about helping me,” Harry added quickly, “I’d like to look at your umbrella over there in the corner. Harry flicked his wand and the umbrella came zooming across the room. Harry caught it by the handle. “If I remember rightly you used this very umbrella on Dudley Dursley on the night of my eleventh birthday.”  
“Didn’t ’ert him, I didn’t.” Muttered Hagrid.  
“Nothing that surgery couldn’t fix. Now let me have a better look.” At that Harry opened the umbrella and there was Hagrid’s wand.  
Harry picked it up gently, turning it over in his hand. “Oak wood and???”  
“An’ phoenix heart string.” Added Hagrid with a high degree of pride. “Never been one like it afore or since.”  
“I thought it was snapped in two.”  
“It was.”  
“Who fixed it?”  
“Ah, well, that might be tellin’. Happened a while ago.”  
“Does Dumbledore have anything to do with it?” Mused Ginny.  
“Ah, well, maybe… then again maybe not. Don’t rightly wan’ ta say.”  
“Since he is not with us,” Harry said, “I think you can tell us or do you want me to use the priori Incantatem spell on your wand and see what it has been up to over the years?”  
“No, no, no, not really. Suppose it is okay to tell you lot since you were all in Dumbledore’s Army.” Then Hagrid brightened up with, “It was jus’ before Dumbledore sent me off to collect you, “Arry, from your ‘ome. He used that wand of yours on mine. Said he needed every hand to make sure you-know-who was really gone. He didn’t wan’ me goin’ there unarmed, if you know what I mean.” Harry handed the wand back to Hagrid who looked lovingly at it. He then added, “Works jus’ like it did in the old days when I was a young’n ‘ere at Hogwarts. And that is why I sorta keep it out a sight, jus’ in case I need it in a hurry.” Then Hagrid thought for a moment then added, “Don’t seem right now Dumbledore is gone and you-know-who is dead…”  
“Hagrid!” Harry said loudly. “Let’s get it right. It’s not you-know-who, it’s Tom Riddle or just Tom. A deluded kid who went bad and thought he could rule the world.”  
“Nearly did.”  
“’Nearly did’ doesn’t count. He’s dead now. So let’s move on. And call him by his real name.”  
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on. Jus’ you sayin’ his name gives me the creeps.” Hagrid shivered and then shook himself out of it.   
“You okay Hagrid?” Hermione asked.  
“I’m good.” Hagrid replied and then asked, “Anyone for tea?” As he stepped toward the fire and the big pot with steam coming out of the spout.  
Harry quickly jumped in with, “The others have to go but I would like to stay for a few more minutes.”   
Ron knew the signals and replied with, “We have to go a check on the house elves. Been so busy haven’t had time to make sure they are okay.”  
Hermione gave a squeal of delight and said, “Ron’s been very thoughtful of the house elves, we better be going.”   
Hagrid quickly added, “Since you lot are goin’ to the castle, can you take Fang along to stretch his legs?”  
“I suppose so.” Hermione replied. With that Fang started to howl out loud at the chance to get out and about.   
With Fang leading the way, the two teenagers took off following the dog leaving Hagrid and Harry alone.  
Now that they were alone and sitting in front of the fire, Harry asked the question, “Hagrid, What’s it like being a teacher here at Hogwarts?”  
“Oh, you don’t start with the easy ones do you.” Then Hagrid went quiet for a bit. After some of careful thought Hagrid said, “When Dumbledore asked me to be a teacher I said no ten times. Come on “Arry, I’m no brain to be a teacher so I told Dumbledore ten times no to bein’ a teacher ‘ere at Hogwarts. Ten times I says to Dumbledore no and he kept not listenin’, he jus’ kept askin’. You see, Dumbledore knew I was no brain, then again, he knew I was good with animals”  
Harry knew Hagrid was good with all sorts of animals, more the violent and dangerous type than the simple ones that don’t do anything like flobberworms. Then Harry remembered the Monster Book on Monsters, not the easiest book in the world to read without getting your arm chewed off. Hagrid’s ideas on animals didn’t always match the rest of the magical world.   
Hagrid continued with, “So he gave me a chance and stood by me through thick and then. So did you with Buckbeak. An’ I suppose they are doin’ the same with you. Givin’ you a chance. I mean who wants a job where no one lasts longer than a year.”  
They sat there thinking for a moment before Harry said, “It’s not the job or the kids, it’s just bad timing right now: with Tom and all that.”  
“Not really Harry. Been bad timin’ for years. Some say ever since Dumbledore turned Tom down teachin’ at Hogwarts. No one lasted a year since then.”  
“Really?”  
“One right after another.”  
“Why didn’t Dumbledore do it?”  
“Said it wasn’t ‘im. Don’t know what he meant by that. Said it several times then got back lookin’ for a new professor. Summer time ‘e was always busy lookin’ for the right person. Guess you are next… at least for one year.”  
Hagrid got up to make some tea and poked about for a rock cake he knew was somewhere on the table. He never found it. “Guess Fang got it.” Mumbled a disappointed Hagrid.  
“Do you have to do lesson plans?” Asked a practical Harry.  
“What’s that?”  
“A plan for your lesson.”  
“Why?”  
“So you know what you are going to do.”  
“Nope, not needed. Jes’ get out there and do it. Now don’t get me wrong, I do plan things. Like make sure I have enough animals an’ gloves, an’ the like. Then get on wi’ it. Simple see. That ways you have time to do the importan’ things like keepin’ you lot out of trouble.”  
“And the Ford Anglia?”  
“Oh, that car has been a real pest ever since Ron left it ‘ere. Quick as a rabbit and rotten to the core. No one in the forest likes it. It sits there all covered and quiet… waitin’ for you to get real close… then bam! The engine roars and the lights flash all over the place. Proper menace. Needs to be gotten rid of.”  
“Well, that’s Ron’s job. But he is going to need some help since it seems to like the forbidden forest as its hiding place.”  
“The forbidden forest is mighty big. Plenty o’ places to hide. Some even I’ve never bin to. Jus’ too thick to get there and back in one day and you really don’t want to be caught out there in the dark. Not a good place to be.”  
“I know,” Harry added thoughtfully. The forbidden forest had not brought him any joy: then again that is why, at the beginning of every school year, Professor Dumbledore warned all students not to go near the forbidden forest.  
“Don’t worry,” Hagrid said brightly, “Be right fun to go trapsin’ about the forest lookin for a car. Mean to say, jes’ like the old days when huntin was allowed. Mr. Fitch will wana come along. Right up his way huntin’ is.”  
“Didn’t know Mr. Fitch was that kind of person.”  
“You’ll soon get to know people better as a professor. Soon know what they like and don’t. Specially if they don’t like spiders!” Hagrid’s face had a good smile on it. Harry was beginning to see Hagrid enjoyed practice jokes.  
“I better be off. Been a very long day and tomorrow will be to.” Harry said.  
“Then you take care Harry, an’ don’t you go worr'in, you’ll do fine as a teacher here at Hogwarts. You and me together. Best pair ever.”  
Harry got up and gave Hagrid a hug. Hagrid would forever have a special place in Harry’s heart.  
With that Harry opened the door to walk out and in bounded Fang all worn out from his romp about the grounds. Harry was just quick enough to jump aside as the dog came in. Checking that the door was now clear Harry said, “Bye” and walked out. Once outside he slipped on his cloak of invisibility. There was one last task to do.  
As he walked Harry glanced up at the Astronomy tower, from where Dumbledore fell. A shiver ran up and down his back as he realized it was a long fall from the tower. Harry headed toward the lakes. As he did Harry cast upon himself a Disillusionment Charm that hid him even from his own eyes. Harry continued round the edge of the lake until he came upon what he considered sacred ground, the place where the white marble sarcophagus stood beside the lake.  
Harry stopped at the base of the tomb looking at the final resting place of Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Sadness swept over him, not the same sadness that shrouded him at his parent’s grave side. This was different. This was like saying goodbye to a good friend knowing you will never see them again in a long while. The minutes clicked by as Harry stood there. At this moment time did not own Harry or Professor Dumbledore.  
Then Harry noticed the head to foot crack in the marble. It had been repaired by some skillful wizard; however, the crack was slightly noticeable because the magic used to interfere with the final resting place of Professor Dumbledore was crude black magic.  
Harry pulled out the wand of destiny and pointed at the top of the mend and carefully said “Reparo Infini”. Slowly he moved the wand down the repair to allow his magic to restore the stone to its original condition. Once complete Harry reviewed his handiwork and thought it was good. Then, pointing at the tomb stone Harry said “Locomotor Stone”. The stone gently rose and Harry guided it to one side revealing the wrapped form of his friend and mentor. He could see the outlines of folded hands across the still chest and assumed that was where the wand used to be. Out of respect for his friend Harry placed the wand of destiny beside his body. As he did so his hand brushed against something hard. He moved the robes aside to reveal a well-worn book. Harry pulled it out and looked at its title page, Godric's Hollow - Past and Present Wizards. Harry looked at Dumbledore then the book, then back at Dumbledore. With book in hand Harry stood beside the open tomb thinking. Even in death Professor Dumbledore was one or even two steps ahead. Harry could not think why the book was there or for whom it was intended. It was there, Harry found it and, since he was supposed to go for Hallows and not Horcruxes, Harry assumed that Dumbledore assumed Tom Riddle would get to the wand of destiny first. Which would mean Dumbledore assumed Harry would win the dual and eventually replace the wand thus finding the book. Which meant Dumbledore wanted Harry to find the book after the Battle of Hogwarts was over and Tom was dead. To Harry that has to be the longest and most tortuous, convoluted and devious bit of logic ever invented. If true, Dumbledore must have been a pretty impressive wizard to ever think of it. Feeling the decision to keep the book was right he did.  
Words failed him when he stood beside Dobby’s grave; not so here. Quietly and with heartfelt sincerity Harry said, “All safe and sound and now back where it belongs. Hopefully the wand will never get lost again. Rest now old friend: rest on in peace.”  
Harry replaced the tomb stone and then glanced about looking for a suitable spot for Colin. Harry walked this way and that. He walked down to the lake and back. Then he went roundabout looking for something Colin would like. Finally he chose a spot close by and used his wand to mark the four corners with the command, “Lumos Survey”. Four lights positioned themselves at the designated four corners. The lights would last long enough for the Creevey’s to find the spot tomorrow.  
With everything done Harry suddenly felt extremely tired. It was time to find his bed as tomorrow was going to be an important day. He took one last glance about the lakes and thought he could hear the Merpeople frolicking somewhere out in the lakes. He promised himself to visit them one day soon.   
Harry left his cloak of invisibility on so he could get to his dormitory without shaking any hands or getting his back patted yet again. What he needed right now was a good nights sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday May 3 1998

Quidditch is a simple game based on giving and taking of passes,  
of controlling the ball,   
making yourself available to receive a pass,   
and, of course, catching the Snitch.   
It is terribly simple.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

One of first lessons taught at Hogwarts is looking after yourself and clothing. Obviously there a liberal sprinkling of WC’s about the place, as you never know where the moving staircases will place you. Learning locations and the fastest way there and back can be critical in making class on time, or not, and receiving detention. Some of the smarter prefects who have mastered some elementary staircase magic can predict, with a fair degree of certainty, whom will be late for what class and be outside the classroom door waiting with their detention book in hand.  
Next is baths. Baths are purely optional because, as every Wizard knows, “Parasol works wonders, and it shows.” Parasol powder has been around for an awful long time. Sprinkling a pinch about the head and saying the words Clesnotum Totalis and the magic do the rest as it scrubs you from head to toe in a flash: hair also. Except, somehow, Harry’s hair might be clean but would never lie down properly.  
Since Parasol was first to the market, Parasol became the main player in the cleanliness business. Others tried to get into the market until Parasol came out with Parasol Double Action. Parasol Double Action cleaned the person and the clothing the person was wearing: all at one go. It was a brilliant move by Parasol. This introduction was hotly debated in the wizarding world as it encouraged children to go to bed with their dirty clothes on knowing they can get everything clean in a snap.   
Certain pure blood parents thought Parasol was the work of muggles to undermine the wizarding world. The Quibbler took the lead while the Daily Prophet felt talking about soap was beneath the dignity of its pages. The Quibbler felt it was championing the rights of all children to go to bed as dirty as they wanted as it would do no harm: so long as they got all the worms and other bugs and pests out first. Some parents supported the notion that “A dirty child was a healthy child.” Other parents, usually pure bloods, thought a well-scrubbed child reflected highly on the parents. The argument raged for some years until the Ministry of Magic stepped in and issued an official ruling that competition amongst various products was a good thing and that parents have the right to set policy in their respective homes and not to go interfering in other peoples affairs.  
Most people thought the soap issue was over and life would resume to normal. They were very wrong. Within a matter of days of the ruling Parasol Triple Action was on the market. This product added shoes as the third element to the soap. Kids were ecstatic at getting their shoes polished to such a high shine so early in the morning. Now it was dead easy to spot a Parasol kid from the others. Every child in the wizarding world wanted to look prim and proper, which put pressure on the parents to only buy Parasol soap. Eventually competition fell by the wayside and Parasol was the only soap left on the shelf.  
Not to be outdone a competitor, Wilkenswore, knew going head to head with Parasol was futile. Parasol had locked up the market… well almost. There was one thing Parasol missed. That is when Wilkenswore came out with their PII. The PII was a hair and shave kit for men. Hair was the domain of three sets of finely made Wilkenswore scissors and a single comb, while the shaving was a highly advanced Wilkenswore shaving system that allowed men to dial in the type of shave and what to shave into the handle and then let the self-lubricating blade do the rest. It was an instant hit among the men and was the gift of choice for all boys when they turned seventeen. Eventually Wilkenswore saw a split in the market and introduced the PII+ for the younger set as it added aftershave into the shaving system.   
The main problem with Wilkenswore shaving system was when the hair was cut, it fell to the ground: making a mess. Wilkenswore quickly recognized the problem and developed a nifty solution. The answer was to add a self-filling hair jar into the kit. As the hair was cut, the magically charged hair flew into the jar. This nifty feature was a hit with the young men as they could now place some of their precious locks into a charm necklace for their girlfriends. Of course, Wilkenswore developed a successful line of locks, chains, etc., for the discerning young gent and lady.  
Discreetly Wilkenswore introduced the WII for women. They brought it to market after considerable research and work to get it right. The WII was quickly followed by the WII+ for women with certain fragrances added.  
It was Kreacher who woke Harry the following morning, May 3, 1998: the day after the Battle of Hogwarts, as it quickly became known as. Kreacher had let Harry sleep past breakfast, as he knew how tired he was. It took a bit to get Harry focused on the day.  
“Apologies to Master Harry for missing breakfast down stairs, but young Gossiter here has fixed you a tray so you can eat in bed and still be on time for the service down stairs.”   
“Mmmm.” Came from under the blankets on Harry’s bed.  
“If you eat now, we won’t have to reheat it later, and you know how you don’t like reheated food.”  
“Coming.” Harry said in a very unconvincing way. He was back in his dream with Ginny and still hadn’t given her the ring. Harry was trying to understand why this dream always happens right before it is time to get up. He was trying to see if there was a link between the ring and getting up. It was all too much too early in the morning to think through. So Harry gave up and fell back asleep. Kreacher knew this would happen, he had seen it too many times with the boys of the Black family.  
“Sorry to bother you again,” Kreacher said with firmness in his voice, “but it is time for you to get ready for the memorial service.”  
That salient fact caused Harry to spring in to action. Kreacher tossed some Parasol over him while Harry muttered Clesnotum Totalis. In a flash, Harry was clean, tidy, shiny, and awake. As he tucked into a steaming bowl of porridge he asked Kreacher, “Who’s the help?”  
“His name is Gossiter. He is a relative working here at Hogwarts. He is giving me a hand while I fully recover from the battle. The excitement has taken a toll.”  
“You’re okay, aren’t you?” Harry asked with a searching eye. Tails of Kreacher’s actions have started to spread amongst Hogwarts house-elves. Seems he was in the thick of it as often as he could or else rallying the charge when things were slipping. There was no doubt which side he was fighting for.  
“Thank you for asking,” Kreacher replied, “Just need a little rest and then I shall resume my duties. Until then Gossiter shall assist and I shall look after Master’s wand.”  
“And Regulus’ locket.” Harry added.  
“Ah, yes, of course.” Kreacher said with deep satisfaction that Harry still acknowledged the fact that Kreacher was a Black house-elf before Harry came along.  
Once breakfast was finished, Harry asked Kreacher, “How do I look?”  
“Suitably resplendent.”  
“Will you be going to the elves service?”  
“Of course.” Was the fast reply. Then Kreacher added, “Sad days indeed. Sad to see the price of freedom freely given for the better good of everyone.” Harry nodded in agreement. Then Kreacher asked, “Will you be able to attend?”  
“Sorry. First have this Hogwarts service then over see Fred Weasley put to rest.”  
“Of course. I understand.” With that they parted to their respective memorial services. The Battle of Hogwarts touched so many of the wizarding community in a multitude of ways, it would be years before anyone would dare attempt capture all it’s facets in a book.  
Harry arrived at the great hall to see all the tables removed and row after row of chairs neatly paid out. On the stand were key people from the Ministry of Magic. Harry didn’t know most of them as the battle had thinned out of their ranks. Harry looked about and noted this was not the same gathering as at Dumbledore’s funeral. The death of Tom Riddle might be of high importance in the wizarding community, however, it was not going to be celebrated in the same way as was Dumbledore’s demise.   
Seated up front were several representatives from Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Out of deep respect several other schools sent single representatives. From Australia, Songline School for Aboriginal Wizards. From Japan, The Seven Stars Academy of Far Eastern Wizardry. From Siberia, The Tibetan Lama Conservatory of Witchcraft, which moved from Tibet to Siberia once Mount Everest became too popular for comfort. Now there is talk they might move to Greenland because of the uptick in oil exploration in the Russian portion of the Arctic Ocean. Surprisingly no one from the Americas, Africa or Antarctica attended.   
The large doors of the great hall swung closed with a finality of ending one chapter and the starting of a new one. A thin wizen man got to his feet and approached the lectern. Adjusting his glasses the man started, “Ladies and gentlemen; fellow wizards; goblins, elves, centers; giants; and, of course, students and teachers of Hogwarts: and anyone else I have missed out I apologize but say welcome. Welcome to this sad and auspicious occasion.  
“My name is Horace Polecat. It seems I am the highest ranking ministerial member from the Ministry of Magic not under suspicion or investigation by anyone. Which, as you may assume, means I serve in an unimportant office at the ministry. Which also means I had to assume this roll for which I do not wish for, but must do.   
“Yesterday some of you were fighting for your very lives here at Hogwarts. It was not a run-of-the-mill fight; this fight was to the death. It was going to be Tom Riddle’s tyrannical way -I hope I got his name right?- or Harry Potter’s way of choice.  
“We all knew what Tom Riddle would do if he won the battle, and we feared him terribly. We feared him because Tom had been warping the minds of deluded individuals with lies, falsehoods, sorcery and the chance he would succeed was great.  
“On the other hand Harry Potter stood virtually alone with only a handful that truly believed what he said. His main supporter was, of course, that legendary headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Sadly very few at the ministry agreed with his assessment of Mr. Potter and the developing situation. Too many of us did not want to go back the dark days. We saw what we wanted to see and believe what we wanted to believe, and assumed everything was under control: when it was not! We chose to hide from the facts, from reality, from Professor Dumbledore and, of course, Mr. Potter. We chose to believe that famous Hogwarts saying, ‘All is well in Hogsmeade’ when it wasn’t.  
“Sadly the ministry became a pawn in the great game of battle chess where punishment is swift and fast. Our punishment, yes, our downfall came about because we did not believe. And once we did not believe, we did not act. Since we did not act we failed the wizarding community. Since we, the men from the ministry, failed we must be replaced. The proper proceedings have been started. In the meanwhile, a skeleton group have been chosen to run the ministry.   
“Since he has been one of Mr. Potter’s earliest and ardent supporters, Kingsley Shacklebolt was proposed, and has accepted, to be the interim head of the Ministry of Magic with all powers necessary. Mr. Shacklebolt has said he will do everything to rebuild your trust and confidence in the Ministry: and that begins with a sound hand on the wand.”  
The electric atmosphere was pierced by that opening statement. That was when the spell holding everyone to their seats broke. As if by one command everyone stood to clap, cheer and generally make an acceptable noise that thundered round the great hall. Horace Polecat put up his hands to settle everyone down. It took a few minutes before it happened as the jubilation was palpable.  
“Sadly this path forward came at a price. For some it was the ultimate sacrifice. We don’t have a complete number as there are still some at St. Mungo’s who are not out of the woods yet. We are still contacting many other groups that came to our assistance to ensure no one is forgotten or left out.  
“This was not a victory for wizards, although some say so. It was, in fact, a victory by all against the impending doom and darkness that Tom Riddle was foisting on us.   
“Once Tom Riddle fell in the dust many of his followers fled. We are in hot pursuit. Now everyone knows Tom is dead we are receiving many substantial leads where we can find his nefarious followers. Once caught justice must be served. I would encourage all wizards to step forward with any legitimate claims against the accused.  
“Even in victory the victorious must be magnanimous to the vanquished. Remember the plight of the insolent son or daughter. Sadly, this feeling might not be reciprocated by the vanquished when they linger in Azcaban awaiting their ultimate demise.”  
Horace Polecat paused for a moment at he took a sip of water and gathered his thoughts. He then continued with, “For the teachers and pupils of Hogwarts, I have one word for you. It is, congratulations!” As one, all the Hogwarts students stood and cheered, yelled, stomped their feet and banged their chairs on the floor. It was a din of epic proportions, which they deserved to make after all that they had been through. “Yes, yes, yes a heartfelt congratulation for putting up with all the ministry’s shenanigans. Maybe the worst was imposing Dolores Umbridge on you. Mmmm, not one of the ministry’s better moments. Hopefully, since Professor Minerva McGonagall has accepted the post of Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry things will get better.” At this news all the students stood up to give Professor McGonagall a rousing three cheers of approval.  
Once things died down, again, Horace Polecat concluded with, “Now I must close to allow Professor McGonagall to say a few words.”  
As Professor McGonagall walked over to the lectern her limp was noticeable to all. After adjusting her glasses she opened with, “Ladies and gentlemen, students and teachers of Hogwarts, and to our esteemed guests… yes we have been through a lot and we came through it with flying colours. Not the colours of Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw or Helga Hufflepuff, but the combined colours of Hogwarts.” The rousing opening brought the students of Hogwarts back to their feet to cheer and high five each other. Well almost everyone. For there, beside his parents sat Draco Malfoy resplendent in Slytherin colours feeling despondent, dejected and disenfranchised. His mother did not feel the same. She was grateful he was alive to look as downcast as he did. She slid her arm around her son and, for once, he did not push away.  
“Sadly the colours of Hogwarts will cover the coffins of students who knew the odds and did not flinch. They faced the adversary knowing their numbers were few. Students who had just seen their champion placed dead at their feet. Despite being down trodden, worn out, and without Harry Potter, the spirit of freedom was not dampened. There was one who still stood proud and tall. Who defied the adversary face to face. Who beheaded the snake that allowed Harry Potter to finally claim his victory over the pretender Tom Riddle.” Every head turned toward the bright red faced Neville Longbottom. His grandmother beamed proudly and wished his parents could be there to witness the accolades bestowed on their son. The thunderous applause took a full two minutes to die down. Last to stop clapping was Neville’s proud grandmother.  
“Even though the fallen are not with us, they do know of the victory and know they did not die in vain. They have already carved out a place in Valhalla where stories of the battle can be told and retold so everyone who passes by will know of their bravery, stoutheartedness and willingness to sacrifice their all. They are quiet now, but the day will come when the family bonds are renewed, we will receive our just rewards, and move forward into the eternities where time has no hold over us.   
“Now we must look to the future. As you all know cleaning up after such a battle is never quick, simple or easy. If you have been reading your history books you will know after any great wizarding battle it takes time to clean up. This battle is no different. Therefore, school will formally end tomorrow at the conclusion of the commencement ceremony. This will allow us all of summer to get ready for the new school year and our new professors for Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
“And now we must conclude this gathering to allow students, families and others to pay their individual respects to the fallen at various services. For parents of underage students please make sure your children are back before lights out. For students who are of age and can apparate, the spells preventing apparation within Hogwarts are locally and temporarily lifted in the Great Hall. Likewise Floo-power can only be used in the Great Hall fire. I’m afraid Portkeys will only be good to and from Hogsmeade and then walk back to Hogwarts.  
“And that concludes this meeting.”  
The minute Professor McGonagall stopped talking everyone started. The din of people talking made it hard to hear so everyone talked louder and louder. Then the first cracks of people disapparating started which added to the general din as some students took advantage of the melee and assumed it was fine to practice disapparating and apparating inside the Great Hall.   
Since Harry was sitting at the back it took a while before he found Ginny. Once found they walked out of the hall hand in hand and then out into the fresh air. They needed some space to talk. “What’s the plan?” Harry asked.  
“Everyone is gone except me. The ceremony will be in a couple hours at the family cemetery. We will apparate outside the village and walk in, that way we don’t all pop in at one go. After we will gather at the Burrow for snacks.”  
“Sounds like a good plan.”  
“Have you packed anything?”  
“For?”  
“Spending a few days at the house?”  
“Ahhh… Wasn’t thinking about it… Should I?”  
“I think it might be wise to be prepared, just in case. Mother is a bit clingy at the moment. I mean, she has lost Fred and killed Bellatrix Lestrange all in one day. And I would appreciate you there for a change rather than you three disappearing here and there, and not telling a soul what’s going on or when you would be back. Not good for our budding relationship.”  
“What about commencement tomorrow?”  
“Blast, I forgot. Okay, after commencement we’ll go to the Burrow for a few days. And don’t you forget it Mr. Potter!”  
Harry smiled at Ginny. He had a good feeling about their future. They walked back into the Great Hall. As they entered they both waved their wands to change their clothing out of their Hogwarts uniforms into something more muggle appropriate for a funeral.   
Harry and Ginny disapparated only to apparate down a quiet ally in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon. They gave each other the once over to make sure they hadn’t splinched. Then off they walked heading toward the church with Ginny directing the way. As they walked Harry was wondering if Ginny’s small black hat with the long black feather was appropriate for a funeral. Then again he hadn’t been to too many funerals: muggle of otherwise. So long as Ginny was happy then Harry was happy.  
The village of Ottery St. Catchpole goes back a long way. The exact date of the first settlers has been lost to history. The earliest known mention of the village is in the Doomsday Book, which was completed in 1086 by order of William the Conqueror.   
The church dated back to 1010, before William the Conqueror was born, and had served the surrounding muggle and wizarding community for a long time. As they walked through the church gate Harry asked, “Your family been in the area a long time?”  
“Forever, as far as I know. Genealogy is a dodgy topic amongst wizards.”  
“Why?”  
Ginny stopped and looked at Harry. The look was a gauging look. “I forgot, you grew up in the muggle world. You do have a lot to learn about wizarding ways, mores, and notions.”  
“Like what?”  
“Let’s talk later.” Ginny whispered as they approached the church.   
It was then that Harry realized it was going to be a grave side funeral. Ginny and Harry moved easily into the family and passed from member to member allowing Ginny time to introduce Harry to all the extended family members. No one questioned Ginny about Harry. Since it was supposed to be a secret, everyone knew about it.   
Looking about Harry was surprised that everyone looked quite normal. Well almost quite normal. Ginny had a slightly out-of-place hat, but she could get away with it being young and fashionable. There were a few other slightly odd suits ranging from tie & tails, morning wear & hat, a black western style suit, hat and bolo, a few black Stetsons and a smattering of black berets from the Fleur’s side of the family. That was when Harry began to notice some of the black dresses seemed to span the last three hundred years of female fashion. All would be very appropriate in their time slot, not all at once in 1998. Harry had to smile: the thought and respect was there and all were in black.  
Finally Ginny and Harry approached Arthur and Molly Weasley. The minute they saw Harry both broke loose of the conversation they were having and walked over and enveloped Harry in a huge hug. Harry was used to Molly but not both at the same time. He eyed Ginny who gave in return a satisfied smile   
“Harry, Thank you for coming,” Mr. Weasley said. “We, and the rest of the family appreciate you coming to say farewell to Fred. We would like you to sit up front with the family.” Molly quickly looked at the seating and was not so sure.   
Seeing Mrs. Weasley counting the chairs Harry said, “I better stand with the rest. That way you have enough chairs. Didn’t know your family was so large.”  
“Big families on both sides.” Mr. Weasley replied with pride and a twinkle in his eye.  
“And all with red hair.” Harry said in some surprise. He was having a clear vision of Ginny’s kids all having red hair.  
“Mmmm, yes. That is what attracted me to Molly when we were young. Like us red heads having to stick together. We did and have gone through thick and thin together.” Suddenly Mr. Weasley’s demure changed into something secretive. Getting Harry aside he asked, “Harry, is it true? Ron has to remove the Anglia?”  
Harry glanced about to see if anyone was listening, when he saw everyone was busy talking or listening to someone else, he said, “Yep, true.”  
Mr. Weasley’s eyes got large and shiny. “If you get a chance, let me know when you plan to go after the car. I’d rather like to come along and assist. That is if I have time. That car has some good history, parts, and I’d rather like to have it back.”  
“Do you think that wise?” A surprised Harry said.  
“Wise or not, it is my car and restoring it would be such a privilege.”  
“You can pick up a secondhand car anytime if you know the right muggle.”  
“Really! I didn’t know that.”  
“In the muggle world secondhand cars are bought and sold all the time. In fact some people make a good living buying and selling them.”  
“How come I didn’t know this,” Mr. Weasley mused, “I really do need to spend time in the muggle world. To get a feel of their merchandise… just in case it falls into the wrong wizard hands.”  
Harry was about to say, ‘I can help you there,’ when Mrs. Weasley approached and said, “It’s time to get started.”  
“Oh yes,” Mr. Weasley said as he suddenly realized what was going on. Then in a loud voice he added, “It’s time.”  
The immediate Weasley family of Ginny, Ron, George, Percy, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, Molly, and Arthur Weasley were in the front row with the extended family standing next and then others outside that circle. Harry stood on the outside. He didn’t mind until he saw Rita Skeeter. That’s when Harry’s blood started to boil.   
The only time you see Rita Skeeter is when she is stirring up muck then lying about it being muck. Quickly Harry started to maneuver out of Rita’s periphery and slowly circled around until he was standing right behind her. As he moved he used a simple shoe enlargement charm on his shoes so he could easily see over her shoulder and read what the pen was writing. When he saw the typical Skeeter lies and half-truths going down on paper he carefully pressed his wand against her back and said the Muffiiato spell to seal Rita and himself from everyone else. In a measured voice Harry said, “Hello Rita, I’m Harry Potter.” Rita noticeably stiffened at the sound of Harry’s voice. Harry continued with, “I’m still disturbed and dangerous and you are still an unregistered Animagus. Who do you think the wizarding world will believe this time? Me, the person that killed Tom Riddle and made all wizards free or you, still an unregistered Animagus. You have one choice, and that is to leave this family alone.  
“If you don’t I will crush that stinking beetle into oblivion. If you understand me, just nod. If you don’t understand me, that’s okay because I’m ready to turn you into a beetle right now and stomp you to bits.” Harry could see Rita’s pen shaking violently across the paper she was using. Slowly Rita nodded. “Good. I’m glad you see it my way. Oh yes, you owe me a hundred lines of ‘I must not tell lies.’ I expect it by tomorrow morning’s owl. If it’s not there in the morning my house elf will track you down like a dog and drag you back.” The pent up anger he had toward Rita and her lies spilled out in a rush. He gave Rita one last poke with his wand and asked, “Are we in agreement Rita?”  
“D-d-do I have a choice?” Rita said through clenched teeth.  
“No and you don’t deserve one. Think of this as you becoming the new Public Enemy Number 1. A position you deserve.”  
“I want to think about it…”  
“Time for thinking is over. You better agree or face me, the person who killed Tom Riddle.”  
Rita Skeeter slowly started to pack her instruments of lies and falsehoods into her purse and slowly turned around to leave. Harry’s hatred was in his eyes and he made sure Rita understood exactly where she stood.  
He stayed behind Rita Skeeter until she worked her shaking way out of the funeral gathering. Risking it Harry flicked a miniature Extendable Eye into the sky to make sure Rita left: she did. Extendable Eyes are the companion to Extendable Ears that Fred and George Weasley had invented. Extendable Eyes were still being refined and as yet not available to the general public. Harry wasn’t general public.   
All that maneuvering meant Harry had missed most of the ceremony. When he turned back to the ceremony there stood the minister at the head of the grave. He was dressed in a simple two piece suit saying the final words over Fred Weasley. The minister was nothing like the small, tufty-haired wizard at Dumbledore’s funeral. This man spoke as one having authority. As his words closed out the ceremony the family rose and, one by one, places a white carnation on the casket. Harry looked hard at George wondering if he had done something to Fred’s casket… just for fun. The two of them had often joked about funerals and what they would like to do to ‘spice’ up the event. Now Harry was at the funeral he was wondering if George was going to pull off a typical Weasley trick or not.  
The casket was lowered and then the graveyard workers slowly, methodically and with care shoveled the dirt over Fred’s final resting place. No one moved until all the dirt was in place and then, bit by bit, people went their way to reassemble at the Burrow.  
Molly Weasley was the last to leave with Arthur waiting a few paces away. Arthur knew this would be tough, he didn’t realize how tough it is to say goodbye to one so young and full of life and excitement. Finally Molly shed one more tear and turned looking for her husband whom she knew would be close by. She put out a hand, Arthur clasped it firmly and they walked slowly away.  
By the church gate was Harry and Ginny. Ginny was leaning against Harry and Harry was leaning against the wall. Harry and Ginny were at peace, not saying anything. When Arthur and Molly passed them by, Ginny quickly said, “Coming,” and Harry and Ginny fell in behind by a few paces.  
Outside the Burrow a tent had been erected along with tables and chairs. At the far end was a Rotatter Photo Album, a gismo that shows one photo after another along with a running commentary. It also allowed you to ask questions about Fred’s past and receive cheeky responses just as Fred would give.  
“Hallo mate,” Ron said to Harry. “This is going to take time. So used to seeing Fred and George in the corner working on something new. You know, two crackpots working on some stupid gag, trick, or exploding bomb. I mean to say, the one eared George is one lonely fellow.”  
Ginny added, “I know. It’s going to take time.”  
“A lot of time.” Mused Ron, “But the shop is doing a fantastic business since Harry won. Like a dam has burst and Diagon Alley is flooded with wizards of every kind spending and having a good time. People want to enjoy life like they did when Tom Riddle was gone the last time.”  
Harry was listening to Ron while glancing about the gathering. It was then he noticed two “pretty French girls” talking to George. He nudged Ginny and asked, “Aren’t those the same girls that were here when Bill married Fleur?”  
Without glancing up Ginny said quickly, “Yes.”  
“If they’re here, is Gabrielle?”  
Coolly she replied with, “She’s busy talking to Charlie.”  
“Really,” Harry said and started looking about to get a peak of the young Gabrielle talking to the older and, hopefully, wiser Charlie Weasley. Ginny nudged him and added, “They are in the house talking dragons.”  
“How do you know so much?”  
He’s my brother and someone has to keep an eye on him.”  
“Oh.”  
Then Ginny added darkly, “She’s still a quarter-Veela.” As if that was reason enough.  
At that moment Monsieur Delacour and his wife approached Harry and in traditional French style kissed Harry on both cheeks. This was one form of greeting not taught at Hogwarts. “Monsieur ‘Arry, ‘ow good ‘tis to see you again. My wife and I must give you many ‘appy thank you’s for saving us from a terrible fate. Young Gabrielle would truly want to say thank you in person.”  
“It was nothing,” Harry said blushing a bit at the thought of Gabrielle saying thank you. Even though only a quarter-Veela her radiant beauty comes through.   
That was when Ginny spoke up, “I’m sure we will see her before you go.” With the emphasis on the word ‘go.’  
“Zat is okay. We stay a week ‘dis time. Now ‘zat skum iz gone, we ‘ave time to see our Fleur and Bill.”  
“Oh goody,” was Ginny’s slightly caustic reply.   
“We be staying wiz Fleur at ‘er place. We like ‘zat. Get to know za family.”  
“Then we can come and visit you there,” Harry added. He could see the way Ginny was thinking and felt in-laws were family even though some treated them as outlaws.  
It was then that Monsieur Delacour saw Hagrid approaching Harry and, with gratitude, said, “Monsieur ‘Agrid, the famous man of ze mountains. I vant to shake your ‘ands in most gratitude. Stories of you are many and great of you with the giants of the Alps. Things are beaucoup better now.”   
“All Dumbledore it were,” Hagrid said a bit uncomfortable being the center of attention. ”He’d said where to go and what to do. I jes’ did as I were told.”  
Monsieur Delacour wagged his finger at Hagrid and said, “Grand modest you iz. You did much more. Many stories we do ‘ear of you. Many good things you do. We be many thanks to you. You ‘elped when others ran.”  
“Like Harry says, jes’ part of the team. Ain’t that right Harry?”  
“That’s right Hagrid. We’re all part of the team.”  
Looking for a way out the embarrassed Hagrid said, “Too much talk’n Like to get somethin’ to wet the whistle. Before I go, Harry, I need to talk to you about books.”  
“Books?”  
“Mmm books.”  
“Like?”  
“Like books.”  
“What books?” Harry said totally lost.  
“Like school books.”  
Finally the penny dropped and Harry realized Hagrid was talking about Hogwarts school books. Gathering himself Harry replied with, “I’m still thinking about it.”  
“Well you better hurry up. Things to do and time goin’ by. When will you know?”  
“Soon.”  
“How soon is that? Got ter order books. Some of them take time to get.” Harry could easily imagine the fun the book binders had making Lima’s The Monster Book of Monsters.  
“I’ll let you know when I know.”  
“Okay, okay, when you know, let me know… won’t you?”  
“Hagrid, you will be the second… make that third once I know.” Harry quickly placed Ginny ahead of Professor McGonagall.  
Hagrid nodded to the group and eased off toward the drinks bar. As Hagrid moved Ron’s great-aunt ‘Nightmare, Muriel’ caught sight of Harry and started to make a move in his direction. She wanted to know if his intentions vis-à-vis Ginevra were honorable or not. As she closed in for the kill Bill Weasley cut her off with a deft jinx that caused her to meander away forgetting what she was doing or where she was going. With Muriel out of the way, for the moment, Bill turned to Harry and said, “Harry, we need to talk. Let’s go for a walk.” Harry excused himself from the surrounding company and followed Bill outside. As they continued to walk away from the Burrow Bill said, “Let’s go to Shell Cottage. I think that would be a better place.” In one swift movement they disapparated only to reappear beside Bill’s home.  
To Harry it seemed a lifetime ago since he was last at Shell Cottage. Here where all the last plans were hatched which lead, ultimately to the battle at Hogwarts. And, more importantly it was here that Dobby was buried. Dobby, his Dobby… gone and never to save Harry again.  
Bill opened the cottage door and went in with Harry following. “Sorry to drag you away, but I thought it was now or never to see you as things, I think, are moving along at a good pace and I wanted to talk to you before it happened.”  
“Okay… All right…” Harry said totally mystified.  
“Is it true, that is, between you and Ginny?”  
“That I love her?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yep! It’s true.”  
“And you two are thinking about getting married?”  
“Well, I suppose so. One day. Not tomorrow. Not really thinking that way, yet. Maybe I should… should I?”  
“Okay, let me ask you this,” said Bill, “How old were your parents when they got married?”  
“Ah, July 4, 1979. Mum and dad were about eighteen… nineteen, I suppose.” Mused Harry as he suddenly realized he was going to be eighteen pretty soon.  
“Yep, dad used to call them, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Independence Day.’ Sort of a joke he made up all by himself, even though no one knew what he was going on about.” Bill stopped for a moment, then continued with, “So I expect you will be thinking about marriage sooner than later?”  
“Well, I suppose so.” Harry said without any real conviction. Chasing Horcruxs all over the place for the past year had distracted Harry from the course of true romance. Harry had succeeded in keeping Ginny out of his mind thus not letting Tom Riddle find that chink in Harry’s thin armor. Now Tom was dead, Harry was free to be with Ginny and pick up where they had left off so long ago.   
Going from renewing a relationship to a full blown marriage was a huge leap that had not crossed Harry’s mind. That’s why he was not sure where Bill was going with all this marriage business.   
Bill started with, “You grew up with muggles and understand muggle ways. Muggle ways are not the same as our, wizard, ways.”  
“Okay,” said Harry, still totally lost: and it showed.  
“I’m not doing a good job of this. Fleur said it would be difficult as you didn’t grow up wizard. Okay, here goes… As you know wizards and muggles are closely related and lived together from the Beginning until 1692. That is when The International Confederation of Wizards enacted The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. From that point on the wizarding world and the Muggle world became separate.   
“From that point on how each group viewed marriage, families and children slowly drifted apart with the wizarding world holding to the old values while muggles slowly disregarded the value of family and family life until today when we seem to be poles apart. Simply put, in the wizarding world marriage is considered very important and vary sacred.   
Bill kept on with, “In the usual course of boy-girls relationships it usually goes from dating, getting serious, thinking of marriage and then planning to get married. You agree?”  
“I suppose so.”  
“Okay, here comes the important part. When a boy is serious about a girl he has to go and ask the girl’s father for her hand in marriage. This is called Harveture in the wizarding world. Harveture is the proper name, but it is better known as ‘Hell Week.’  
“You see, it’s not a simple, ‘go and ask the question’ and that’s it. No! The father of the bride has the right to have you stay for a week so he can size you up properly. Think of it as non-stop grilling. That is why it is called Hell Week. You are there on your own for a whole week answering any and all questions. Could be about your job, family, money, relations to parents, in-laws, out-laws, were you a Death Eater, did you support Voldemort, even past girlfriends, and the list goes on and on and on. Not to limit it to questions he could have some physical tests for you to perform. They are tough and you better pass them all or else everyone will hear about it and the chance of you marrying the girl goes down faster than a dung-bomb.  
“The point is the father of the girl wants to make sure you are serious and will live up to your side of the bargain. If not he wants to know before you marry, not after and cause a loss of face for the family. This vetting process cuts down failed marriages as both the boy and the girl understand how serious marriage is. Yes, I know starting off right doesn’t guarantee success. But I can tell you from firsthand experience you don’t want to lose the marriage through neglect after what you go through during Hell Week!”  
Harry’s eyes were the size of saucers. This was not how it was done in the muggle world. This was seriously different. “Okay, I can handle it… I think.” Harry said in a high pitched voice.  
“Don’t think: you better be ready for dad. He’s already calling Ginny by her proper name. That is a sure sign he and mum are getting their ducks in a row for when you come calling.”  
“But your mum and dad have been like godparents to me over the years.”  
“That’s because you were the boy that Voldemort couldn’t kill. That is all behind us now. Voldemort is dead and dad still belongs to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. That means he has to be seen upholding traditional wizard values. And Hell Week will be hell for you as you are now just a boy chasing a girl and that girl happens to be his one and only daughter. You, Harry, should be ready for hell. Oh, and if you think the family will be there to help you, think again. Everyone moves out leaving you and the girl’s father all alone.”  
To put off the inevitable Harry asked, “And how did it go for you?”  
“It was worse than hell. First, the French use two weeks. One week for questions –interracial mainly- and general torture, the second on French vinery. The French are very proud of their traditions and want to make sure you are capable of carrying on the family tradition.”  
“But you aren’t French?”  
“Do you think that mattered? Actually it made it worse as Monsieur Delacour knew I’d be taking Fleur back to England. That made him worse than mad.”  
“But he seemed so nice to everyone.”  
“Of course, that is because I passed Hell Week, got married and now am part of the family. See… that is how it is in the wizarding world. Pass the exam and, bingo, everything is fine as the father of the bride has vetted and accepted you as family.”  
Harry jumped to his feet. This was serious. He started to walk about the room being carefully watched by Bill. Harry fired off at Bill with, “This isn’t some Weasley joke?”  
Bill countered with, “Oh no. Not when it comes to marriage. This is dead serious stuff.”  
“Then why? Why do it?”  
“Like I said, wizards take marriage very seriously. Okay, Let me ask you this… when you were in muggle school how many kids came from broken families?”  
Harry stopped pacing, thought, and then said in a low voice “Lots.”  
“And why was that?”  
“Don’t know. Just the way things are, I suppose.”  
“That’s right. Just the way thing are. The wizarding community has long understood the importance of families and doesn’t want to go down the road of, ‘just the way things are.’ You see, the foundation of our community is the family. You would have understood that better if Voldemort hadn’t come along and killed your parents. You would have had the advantages of a mother and a father.  
“In the wizarding world, the differences between a boy and a girl, when they come together through marriage, result in a strong and enduring union. This is why we say, ‘the whole is greater than the parts’. All this was hammered out in the Beginning. Us wizards have kept the faith and understanding of marriage while muggles have lost their way in the mists of darkness.  
“The other part of the deal hammered out in the Beginning is every boy and girl born has the right, the unalienable right, to be born into a family headed by a father and mother. See, that right was yours. But the right of choice exercised by Voldemort triumphed, or destroyed, depending on how you look at it, your right to being raised by a father and mother.  
“To get a better view of the picture, let me update what I said before. In the usual course of boy-girls relationships it usually goes from dating, getting serious, thinking of marriage and then planning to get married and then you gat married. Okay so far?”  
“Yeh, I’m okay with it so far.” Harry said as he was back on his feet pacing about trying hard to sound positive about wizarding mores’ and values.  
“As an outcome of that union children join the family. Just like you came from the love between your mum and dad. As you know growing up outside a normal family if fraught with difficulties, not insurmountable, but not a good situation: as you well know. Just think how different it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t come along. More than likely you would have had brothers and sisters. Maybe as many as we have. Anyway, it would have been different.  
“That is why Hell Week is worth it because you have paid a hefty price for success and that goes in to the marriage. Like the saying goes, ‘failure is not an option.’”  
“Okay, okay… I get it. Marriage is serious. I get muggles ways are not wizarding ways. I see all that… but do I have to do it?”  
“Sorry Harry, there is no other way. Go and ask any wizard you like. Go and ask Dumbledore and listen to his tail. Since it is Dumbledore, expect something different.”  
“Dumbledore?”  
“Mmmm, yep, you know him. Used to be headmaster of Hogwarts.”  
“Dumbledore?”  
“Don’t keep saying it Harry. Just go and ask him. Remember… his painting?”  
“Oh yeh. I forgot.”  
Bill could see that this concept of Harveture was not going down well. It doesn’t go down too well with a sizable crop of wizard boys as they realize that they may come up short and have to play catch-up or lose the girl of their dreams. Playing catch-up is colloquially called, ‘playing the Harveture blues.’ In a more conciliatory tone, Bill added, “Look, why don’t you talk to Ron and visit Hogwarts library. I’m sure there are some books on Harveture and helpful strategies.”  
Harry was still pacing about trying to come to grips with this new knowledge. Finally he blurted out, “Why isn’t this covered at Hogwarts”  
“It is if you read the footnotes in History of Magic.”  
Harry was not amused by all the references to History of Magic being banded about. He couldn’t help if there were more important things going on to distract him from such a boring topic.  
“Okay now we have the hard stuff out of the way, let’s go to something more pleasant: the ring.”  
“The ring as in wedding ring?” Harry quickly asked.  
“”The rings as in matching engagement and wedding rings. That’s what every Weasley expects and gets. No exceptions here Harry.” Bill held up his left hand showing his wedding ring and added, “And a matching man’s ring.” Harry was deep in thought when Bill added, “The only place us Weasley’s go to is James of Bond Street in London. He is an excellent muggle, not a goblin. So there will be no long looks of ownership.”  
“Is it easy to find or is it unplottable like 12 Grimmauld Place?” Asked Harry.  
“Na… just a regular shop in Bond Street, 221B Bond Street. Just remember to look normal as there are lots of muggles wandering about looking at jewelry. Go and ask to speak to Mr. James James and he will look after you. Goblins may smirk at his workmanship, but I can tell you from firsthand experience he is every bit as good as any master goblin. Take Ginny to the Tower of London if you want to see what he has been up to lately. Look at the big diamonds!”  
“What did you get Fleur?”  
“Something very traditional and very French. Took a lot of study as French tastes and traditions are different. James had his work cut out and spent quite a bit of time corresponding to his counterpart at their French Branch at 30 Champs-Elysées in Paris. Cost a lot, but, I’m sure you will agree, Fleur is worth every Galleon of it.”  
“Did you go there alone?”  
“Had mum along for her expert opinion. You don’t want to buy the wrong ring: do you?” Harry hadn’t thought about rings as he hadn’t got that far in his planning. Right now he was happy being able to let Ginny know his true feelings rather than stifling it all up.  
Bill looked at the clock to make sure he was on schedule then said, “Let’s sit down for a bit.” Bill waved his wand and a couple chilled bottles of butterbeer came flying out of the kitchen and skidded to a halt on the small table between them. “Have a drink.”  
“Thanks,” Harry said as he sat down and started work on his butterbeer.   
“It all starts with how serious you are with Ginny: or any other girl. The ring has to be compatible to her. That means you have to know her. That means you have dated her long enough to know her. That means you have put some time and effort into finding the right girl and not the first one that falls down at your feet swooning over Harry Potter, the boy who killed Voldemort.”  
“Can you stop calling him Voldemort and use Tom Riddle instead? I killed Tom Riddle, not Voldemort.”  
“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask me: and the answer is no. Not everything will fall your way. If you remember it was Greyback that attacked me. Maybe not under direct orders from Voldemort, but close enough. It was Voldemort, or one of his followers, that blasted Hogwarts that killed Fred. To me and a lot other wizards Voldemort killed off Tom Riddle a long time ago. Now he is finished we can begin to pick up the shattered pieces of our lives and make something of them.   
“Some, like me, will carry scars for the rest of our lives. Other like Teddy Remus Lupin will only hear stories of their parents: much like you.” Harry became uncomfortable at hearing Teddy’s name being mentioned. As his godfather, Harry was beginning to feel the weight of responsibility it entailed. “Others like you and Ginny, or Ron and Hermione are young enough to go on and have pretty much normal lives and families.  
“Is it fair? Maybe not: but that’s how things are. We accept our lot in life and go on to make something good from it.  
“Now I’m thinking about it, I’d better add one more item to the list. You grew up muggle, did you ever hear about King Arthur?”  
“’Course I did. Everyone does in Junior school.”  
“So you read Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Mort Darthur?”  
Harry suddenly stopped talking and went in to deep thought. Then, in a serious tone said, “It happened at the library. I was looking for a book to read and this one came flying off the shelf and hit me in the back. I thought some kid in the next row had pushed it through so I picked it up and ran round the other side. No one was there. Actually no one was anywhere about. It was the book about King Arthur.”  
“See,” Bill said, “You were a wizard and didn’t know it. It happens at odd times and that is how wizards know their magical abilities are coming through. Just a normal part of growing up wizard. Anyway, back to the story. As you know the whole story of Arthur is a bit of a hodge-podge of stories, legends and down right lies. So a lot of what we know is a bit of a guess at times. Rather than pick on the story I’m just going to talk about the sward, Excalibur. Legend has it that Excalibur was made by goblins for a very powerful Northland King who wanted the best of the best and was not afraid to pay for it. Once the sward was complete along came Merlin and wanted to see the finished sward. Now, you have to remember Merlin was not a particularly honorable wizard: he was always looking after himself. He could see the sward was exceedingly fine, loads of jewels and of great worth. He liked it so much he decided to steal the sward for himself. Merlin knew just stealing the sward would be easy and would put him at odds with everyone, so he devised a plan to make things difficult for everyone.  
“The Northland King was going to have a lavish ceremony whereupon the goblins would present him with the sward which would show he owned the sward. At least that is what the King was thinking. As we know, Goblins don’t think that way; and Merlin knew that.  
“As the ceremony got under way the goblins came into the tent in a long procession with the most senior goblin carrying the sward and scabbard. He presented the sward to the King who generously accepted and paid a hansom price for Excalibur. Like I said, there was nothing like Excalibur before or since, including the sward of Gryffindor.  
“After the speeches were concluded and the drinks were being passed round Merlin entered the tent underneath a cloak of invisibility. He made his way around to where the sward lay on its cushion. Merlin stretched forth his hand to grab hold of the sward. As he did so he forgot the cloak and the King saw the arm and hand appear out of nothing and grab the sward: then everything disappeared. Of course there was a huge tumult at the swards disappearance. The King accused the goblins of stealing the sward. The goblins accused the King of double crossing them and no one could find the sward.  
“Knowing the sward would be instantly recognizable, Merlin took it down to the lake and asked the Lady of the Lake to look after the sward until things died down. Little did Merlin know the Lady of the Lake would give the sward to Arthur: a mere muggle. Once everyone knew who had the sward they knew he had the mystical powers of Lordship over the country from Lands End to John O’Groats. And when King Arthur died, Sir. Bedivere, another muggle, returned Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake where, we still believe, the sward is today.”  
Bill let the basic story sink in before adding, “So, who actually owns the sward? Goblins think they do. The Northland Kings heirs are after it, the Lady of the Lake has it and, as legend has it, will give it to another muggle who, one day, will become King over this fair land.”  
“So,” Harry said, “Is the Lady of the Lake a muggle or wizard?”  
“Glad you are thinking there. We don’t know. Even the Merpeople don’t know and they have been looking the longest. I remember Dumbledore talking about all this one time. Said it is one of the best guarded secrets of all time. Never been broke by muggle or wizard. That is why Dumbledore took up sailing so he could go looking through the various lakes to see if he could find the right lake. Of course he never did. Anyway, as you can see one royal mess. And this mess has been a thorn in the side of every goblin ever born since the Lady of the Lake took the sward under the water.  
“Let me give you an example. When I started at Gringotts I was told never to bring up the topic of Excalibur… Ever!!! I was told why and thought it a pile of hogwash. Then one day a lady with three young kids in tow came into the bank wanting access to the families vault. The husband had just died and the mother wanted to put food on the table. Upon closer examination the goblins found out her name was never added to the vault account. So, access was firmly denied. Well, she went ballistic and created a huge fuss that people were coming into the bank just to see what all the noise was about. Nothing would calm her down and the hubbub was getting out of control. Before Ministry men could get to the bank she yelled out as loud as she could, ‘Good thing us lot got Excalibur to whack you lot behind the ear-ole.’ Well that did it. Goblins of all sorts poured into the bank fighting mad. The wizards in the bank were happy to oblige. It was a donnybrook of epic proportions. That is how touchy goblins are about Excalibur. So never, ever, no never, no ever mention that sward when there is a goblin within ten miles of you. They will hear it and be after you.”  
Harry was about to ask what King Arthur had to do with the cost of tea in china but Bill put up a hand and said, “We’ve been gone long enough. I only wanted a quick chat. Sorry that this turned into something a bit more. Just that you need to know what’s coming up if you and Ginny stay serious and the marriage question pops up. Ginny knows all about this stuff as it was flying about the kitchen table long enough when I was seeing Fleur.”  
Finally Harry got a word in with, “You really didn’t say exactly what happened to you in France.”  
“And I won’t. It will be special to my family and more so to the boys of the family when they come along. See, Harry, that’s all part of family lore and not for general consumption. That’s why I’m saying to you to look in the library… get it?” Harry gave Bill a blank look. Bill let out a long sigh, then added, “As much as I like you, you are such a clod at times. Books equals information. Information equals understanding. Understanding equals being ready. Get it?”  
“Why didn’t you say so in the beginning?” Laughed Harry. “Course I got it.”  
“Okay, now you got it, let’s get back to the party”  
“One final question,” Harry said quickly. “Say Ginny and I get married. That makes me part of the family. Do I get to hear your Hell Week stories?”  
With a fast smile Bill replied with, “Marrying Ginny only makes you an in-law, not full family. Good try though: means you can think on your feet. Now let’s get back.”  
“Where have you been?” Ginny asked Harry once he walked into the Burrow.  
“Out chatting to Bill.”  
“What about?”  
“I think you would call it guy stuff.”  
Ginny gave him a rueful look then said, “Come on, there are loads of relatives you have to meet. Takes something like a funeral for everyone to make the effort to get together. Sad really.”  
After the last relative left; after the tent had been taken down; after things had been cleared away, Ron and Harry ascended the staircase to the small room at the top of the house, beneath the attic where the family ghoul lived. Despite of the opportunity the ghoul had not changed the decor and the room still had posters of the Chudley Cannons on top of the burnt orange coloured walls.  
Once they were in bed Harry asked Ron, “What’s all this business about Harveture?”  
“So that’s what Bill was on to you about. Knew something was up the minute he started asking me silly questions about you and Ginny. Told him you were only dating.”  
“What if it got serious… what then?” Harry carefully asked.  
“What you and Ginny… serious?” Ron said in a high squeaky voice as he sat bolt upright. “You’re not, are you?”   
“Course not”, Harry lied. “Just want to know about Harveture. Remember I grew up muggle.”  
“That’s what so nice about Hermione: her parents are muggle and don’t know stupid wizard stuff. See, I’m going to have it easy according to Hermione.”  
“So you two are serious?” Harry asked.  
“”Guess so. I mean who else is there? Who else has been through all the stuff we have done? No one would believe me except you and Hermione. Been like that since we first met each other back on the train. Sort of like fate.”  
“What about Lavender Brown? That looked pretty serious?”  
Ron turned a bright red that Harry could not see as the lights were out. “Ah, not the same as Hermione. Hermione is different.” Ron said defensively. “I can actually talk to her about stuff and she understands.”  
“Yeh and Lavender didn’t want to talk, just song away.” Harry said with a smile on his face as he remembered the times Ron and Lavender were wrapped up in each other for hours at a time.  
“Okay mate, I thought you were my friend.” Ron said with an edge in his voice.  
“Am: just having some fun.”  
“At my expense. And what about you and Cho? Always ‘seeking’ each other?”  
Now the shoe was on the other foot, Harry wasn’t smiling any more. “Okay, I see what you mean.” There was a long pause before Harry asked again, “Well… what about Harveture ?”  
“Bill said it was a breeze. That was a lie. He was dead worried about it for weeks on end. Almost didn’t ask Fleur. Dad used to talk about it when we were young. Sort of family stories about the kitchen table before meals when mum was busy and out of earshot. Only told us boys, never Ginny. What with her being a girl and the youngest. She might not appreciate what dad went through to finally win mum. See, there was someone else after mum and it was a bit nip and tuck until dad used magic on a muggle saucepan to clobber the other guy. Of course the other guy had to go to St. Mungo’s and that was how dad finally won then married mum. I mean to say, did you see how she dealt with Bellatrix Lestrange! Mum was top of her class in Defense against the dark Arts and she hasn’t lost her killer instinct! Dad always said he was dead lucky to marry mum and they have been through a lot together. I mean, look at us lot of boys… not always the best behaved, but the best of the Weasley red heads any day.”  
Harry lay in bed, hands under his head, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to Ron going on about his family. As Ron prattled on Harry was musing about what could have been if Tom Riddle hadn’t happened. How different things would have been.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday May 4 1998

 

The trouble with referees is  
they know the rules of Quidditch,  
but they do not know the game of Quidditch.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Tradition is very important at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, from the creation of the school down to today. Tradition is a thread that runs through life connecting one person to another. For example the four houses that makes up Hogwarts. Each house is the same in many respects yet differ in traditions, colours, goals, etc., and then are willing to put all differences aside for the betterment of the school.  
Since the formation of Hogwarts the classes have remained remarkably unchanged. The standards set by the four founders were well thought out and well taught. Because of the consistent standards set from the board of regents, through the headmaster and down to the individual teachers, students can compare themselves back through familial generations. Even though comparisons are not encouraged, they are not frowned upon either. For a son or daughter to earn more O.W.L.’s and N.E.U.T.’s than their parents is definitely worth the effort. To earn the same is okay, while to earn less is definitely not talked about in open conversations.  
Hogwarts has a graduation ceremony at the end of the school year. Only those students who have completed all seven years are invited to attend: students and family, that is. By tradition each student is presented with their O.W.L and N.E.W.T certificates as well as the all important Hogwarts Certificate of Completion and Graduation. As with the sorting hat upon entering Hogwarts, on leaving the headmaster announces the position the student shall be assuming.  
If Harry had grown up in a regular wizarding family all this tradition would be known and talked about the kitchen table as a regular piece of conversation. More so in families where both parents went to Hogwarts.  
Wizarding parents would talk to their children about their time at the school and when grandparents came by, they too would add their stories into the collective family memory that is banded about and handed down. Some families even have all their Hogwarts stories bound into books, complete with the necessary wizard photos, to provide the up and coming generations a sure knowledge that if strange Uncle Bert can graduate from Hogwarts, anyone can.  
All lost to Harry as the Dursley’s were an ignorant lot when it came to wizards, wizard families and wizard ways. In light of what Harry went through, maybe it was for the best he lived with ignorance.  
As usual it was Kreacher that had the honorable responsibility of waking Harry up on graduation day.  
Rather than use the simple Parasol way for the day, Kreacher chose to clean Harry’s clothes the old fashioned way by hand: just like he did for the Blacks. Kreacher knew there was nothing better than hand cleaned dress robes for formal occasions and graduation from Hogwarts is a very important occasion.  
Hogwarts Completion and Graduation day was set for Monday, May 4, 1998. There was a general undercurrent of moving past Tom Riddle and his cohorts: back to the regular rhythmic way of life everyone yearned for.  
The day started early for Kreacher and many other house elves as they got the families ready for the day. Once ready it was time to gather at Hogwarts great hall for 10 AM.  
“So, what’s graduation like?” Harry asked Ron as they started to get ready for the ceremony.  
“Done it too many to times mate!” Ron said. “You don’t have a magic family like I do. Just remember, graduation is long and boring. All you do is sit there and do nothing.”  
“That’s because you had to go.”  
“Had to go! I was forced to go or get clobbered once back home.” Ron said rubbing his left ear in remembrance. “Had to sit there and be quiet. You ever done that for hour after hour.”  
“They ain’t that long… are they?”  
“Listen Harry, they are long and boring. Nothing but waffle and hot air. That is why I was glad Fred and George never graduated. Didn’t have to sit there and try staying awake. Actually I was expecting them to do something if they did try to graduate.”  
“Something like?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe fire zizzards, or flying stink gimballs, or ground shakers. Something new like that. They would have gone out with a big bang.”  
Harry was rather dubious about Ron’s ideas as he knew the graduation ceremony was covered with many powerful spells to dampen and quell such youthful exuberance. And there was the presence of parents. No parent would ever want to be known as the family that disrupted a Hogwarts graduation ceremony.  
After breakfast, Harry joined the Weasley family on a portkey to get them all to Hogsmeade at the same time. Then a leisurely stroll over to Hogwarts with time for conversations, general chit-chat and catching up on gossip since the last graduation.  
Ron and Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room where they were greeted by a resplendent Hermione. She had done something to her dress robes and had tamed her hair into a conservative bun at the back of her head with two long ringlets hanging down on each side of her face. Ron stood there looking at her until Harry poked Ron and said, “Hermione is ready to be escorted down to the hall. Get going.  
Ron shut his open mouth and said, “Yeh.” In some sort of ethereal voice.  
Harry joined Ginny and followed Ron and Hermione out the common room and down to the great hall. As they walked Ginny said quietly, “They do look good together.” Harry nodded in agreement. He was wondering how long it would be before Ron popped the question.  
Upon entering the great hall all could see the tables had been removed to make way for enough chairs for families to sit together. Standing on top of each chair was the occupant’s name. Harry was not sure where to go as he had no family. Ginny said, “Come on, let’s fine my family and then look about.”  
Ginny’s family was easy to find with their red hair and Fleur’s silver-blond hair. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked pleased as punch as Ron and Hermione walked through the hall to their seats. Sadly Hermione had not the time to travel to Australia and reverse the spells she had put on her parents as protection. That would take a bit of time as it has to be carefully done so that all memories are restored. And right now the graduating class of 1998 was out of time as graduation was about to commence. It was then that Harry noticed his name next to the Weasley’s followed by Hermione’s. Quickly they reshuffled to allow Hermione to sit next to Ron and Harry next to Ginny.  
Promptly at 10 AM the solid oak doors to the great hall were swung closed and Kingsley Shacklebolt rose to his feet and approached the lectern. He looked aver the assembled audience, gave a small cough and placed a 7”X5” card onto the lectern and commenced to address those assembled with, “Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, relatives, government officials, teachers and, of course the graduating class of 1998. Welcome, welcome all and, again, a special congratulations to this august body of students. Of all the graduating classes this one has seen the most compelling reasons for coming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
“This class has had to face difficulties no other class has had to face. To make choices no other class has had to make. To perform magic no other class has had to do. And to choose Hogwarts like no other class has had to choose. This graduating class has been tested and not found wanting!” To add emphasis Mr. Shacklebolt was hammering the lectern hard with his closed fist. Harry rose to his feet applauding then was followed by the other students resulting in a thunderous noise. Mr. Shacklebolt let the appreciation die a natural death and then resumed with, “We all thought, that is, most thought Lord Voldemort was dead and life was back to normal. That is until September 1, 1992 when Harry Potter started school at Hogwarts. That one act marked this class as different. That meant each one of you would have to choose. Choose to believe what Harry Potter said was the truth or was a lie. Sadly few accepted Harry’s version of reality until things became clear and Lord Voldemort with his hordes were standing outside the gates of Hogwarts while inside were only a few.  
“Now you will be the people to carry the truth of what happened here to others in the wizarding world. Many will ask you to recount the events of the past few days, be truthful, honest and avoid needless embellishments as they do nothing for those that sacrificed their lives to give you the coming days of your future.  
“As you know there were many of this year were not allowed to attend classes. Others were on the run. And still others were fighting a subversive battle against insurmountable obstacles. It has been agreed that all these people, and we know who you are, shall be allowed to graduate. Sometimes formal classes are not the only place where you can learn the important lessons of life.  
“On that note I shall pass over the honors of graduation to the new headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall.”  
Professor McGonagall rose to her feet amidst three resounding cheers for her. As she approached the lectern some would say they saw a tear in her eye while others said it was the angle of the sun on her glasses. Either way, there was a gentle tone in her voice as she addressed the assembled audience.  
“It has come time to stop saying boys and girls to you, the 1998 graduating class of Hogwarts. It is now time to say congratulations ladies and gentlemen.” While the cheering was going on Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and beckoned a stool with a battered old hat on it to her side.  
“Seven years ago, as scrawny eleven-year-olds, you entered this school, formed a line and were sorted by this somewhat battered sorting hat. The hat sorts you on entering and now will watch you leave Hogwarts and go on to your next big adventure called ‘life after Hogwarts’. Even though you shall leave Hogwarts, you shall always carry Hogwarts with you wherever you go or do. From this point on, you shall be an emissary of Hogwarts.  
“Now, graduating class, please line up in alphabetical order.” There was the shuffling of chairs followed by the stunned looks of the graduating class as they found their place in the line. They were having a hard time accepting the end was nigh.  
Professor McGonagall checked her long roll of parchment and then reviewed the line of stunned students. The silence was palpable. At this point the sorting hat broke into verse with,

Time to put down the quill,  
Time to roll up the parchments.  
Time has ran out for you  
And for Hogwarts.

Time has flitted away  
In studying stuff  
That will be of no use  
To you or you or you.

As silly as it is, the founding four  
Knew it must be so  
And knew you should learn  
The lessons they prescribed.

Where knowledge was, it shall vanish.  
Skills gained shall never be used.  
Memories shall get hazy  
While friendships remain.

Put down the quill,  
Roll up the parchment,  
Close the book  
… it’s time to go.

Somewhere in the line of students came a small sob as reality was slowly taking hold.  
That was when Professor McGonagall started with, “Abbott, Hannah – Hufflepuff. Accepted a position of apprentice wizardry robe designer to the house of Da Vil, Paris.” Hannah moved forward to shake hands with Professor McGonagall as Professor McGonagall handed her three rolled up parchments. One for her O.W.L.’s. One for her N.E.W.T.’s. The final and grandest being her Certificate of Completion and Graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All the other teachers were on their feet clapping along with Hannah’s family. Hannah stopped half way across the stage, turned to her family, waving the parchments in the air, and yelled, “I did it!” as loud as she could. Knowing there would be scenes of exuberance; Professor McGonagall remembered her own graduation and calmly continued with the next student.  
“Android, Seamus – Hufflepuff. Erstwhile leader of the unofficial Dead Poet’s Society has accepted a position in letters at the College of the Mainland. Until the term begins Seamus along with his friends plan to do a grand tour of all the literary sites in Europe utilizing the Celestial Omnibus Company as their means of transportation.” As Seamus stepped forward to receive his parchments and Certificate of Completion, two bright green Leprechauns appeared on top of his mortar board dancing the Irish jig. The spell was a one-way spell so only those in the audience saw the Leprechauns. The Leprechauns were a great hit, which resulted in a thunderous applause by the graduating class and parents alike.  
“Bones, Susan – Hufflepuff. Accepted a position as an apprentice in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes with special emphasis in Obliviator magic.”  
“Boot, Terry – Ravenclaw. Accepted a position as a muggle archeologist in an expedition into deepest darkest Peru. He is going as a trainee apprentice for the Department of Ancient Magical Artifacts. Hopefully he finds something.”  
“Brocklehurst, Mandy – Ravenclaw. Accepted a position as a trainee member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. After special training she will be stationed at London’s Bow Street office to take care of local incidents.”  
“Brown, Lavender – Gryffindor. Accepted a position as a junior assistant to Will Jongleur Lawyer at Large. She will take up this position after enjoying the suitably supervised European tour with Android and friends.”  
“Bulstrode, Millicent – Slytherin. She is moving to Florida to work with a Ministry outreach group assisting our American cousins in the repatriation of various snakes from the Florida everglades. She is hoping to use this as a starting point to develop a sanctuary for endangered snakes, preferably in Africa.”  
“Delabole, Elaine, - Ravenclaw. Accepted a summer position with Dr. Ellingham before starting her medical training at St. Mungo’s Institute of Pharmacological & Medical Wizardry. Again Miss. Delabole will be one of the Android hordes traipsing all over Europe.”  
“Finch-Fletchley, Justin – Hufflepuff. Poet, painter, out of date spell collector and, soon to be, general factotum at the Daily Prophet. He will take up this position after enjoying the suitably supervised European tour with Android and friends.”  
“Finnigan, Seamus – Gryffindor. Accepted a position working for the Irish National Quidditch team. He will be learning strategy, individual and team, under the tutelage of the team manager. When the Quidditch season is over, Finnigan will be assisting in summer Quidditch training camps about Ireland to make sure up and coming players have the opportunity to excel.”  
“Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor. Accepted a temporary research position here at Hogwarts before transitioning to a position at the Department of International Magical Cooperation specializing in harmonizing magical laws and ordinances across international boundaries. Please note, despite being out of circulation, so to speak, Miss. Granger has been granted a special dispensation by the Hogwarts board of governors to sit her N.E.W.T's at the usual time. Therefore, her N.E.W.T’s parchment will be presented at a later date. We do expect great things from our Miss. Granger!”  
Hagrid, Rebus – Gryffindor.” No one was expecting to hear Hagrid’s name and all eyes turned to him as he got up and walked over to Professor McGonagall. She continued with, “Rebus came to Hogwarts in 1940 but did not graduate. He did not graduate because Hogwarts let him down by failing to do its job properly. It is time to rectify that error. I am pleased, no, privileged to present this parchment of Completion and Graduation to our very own Rebus Hagrid.” Hagrid took the parchment, waved it to everyone as everyone was on their feet applauding Hagrid.  
Once things settled down Professor McGonagall continued with, “Longbottom, Neville – Gryffindor. Accepted the position of apprentice gardener at the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, London. Like so many others, Neville will start after Android’s European vacation”  
“Lovegood, Luna – Gryffindor. Accepted a position assisting her father at The Quibbler and searching for allegedly extinct magical creatures. Of course we wish Miss. Lovegood good luck in that endeavor.”  
“MacDougal, Morag – Ravenclaw. Accepted a position at Gringotts Wizarding Bank as a junior. This is indeed an honor as competition for positions at the bank is keen from graduating students of all wizarding schools. Congratulations indeed!”  
“Malfoy, Draco – Slytherin. Accepted a position in his family business.” The applause was polite, mainly from fellow Slytherins.  
“Moon…  
“Nott…  
“Parkinson…  
“Patil…  
“Patil…  
“Perks, Sally-Anne…  
“Potter, Harry – Gryffindor. On temporary assignment assisting Professor McGonagall getting Hogwarts ready for the new autumn term.” The shortness of the description caught many by surprise. The expectation was for Professor McGonagall to wax eloquently over the recent success of Harry Potter.  
“Thomas, Dean – Gryffindor. Accepted a position as trainee at Puddlemere United following in Oliver Wood’s footsteps. We hope Puddlemere’s position in the league will change with the addition of Dean. In the off season Dean will be found at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. And to round all this activity off he will be joining Android on his European cultural escapade.”  
“Turpin, Lisa – Ravenclaw. Is also involved in the Android trip around Europe. Fortunately her elder and hopefully wiser brother, Dick, will be accompanying them. When they return Miss. Turpin has accepted a position at junior of potions at the International Potions Investigation Bureau in Luzerne, Switzerland.”  
“Weasley, Ron – Gryffindor. Is on temporary assignment to assist Hagrid before assuming a position of apprentice wandmaker to Ollivander’s.”  
“Zabini, Blaise – Slytherin. Has accepted a position at junior at the Apparition testing center of the Department of Magical Transportation.”  
Once Blaise sat down all the parents, teachers, and the board of governors stood clapping proudly. Then the caps started being tossed into the air as the graduating class of 1998 realized they really had graduated and they were ready to move on. Well, maybe.  
Families hugged, photos were taken, addresses swapped, and slowly, very slowly, people drifted away from the hubbub of excitement to gather their belongings one last time. For some reason no one had packed, just in case. No one knew what ‘just in case’ meant; nonetheless, no one had packed. Now it was time to pack and time to go.  
As they walked out Harry said to Ron, “Didn’t know Android was taking off like that.”  
“Yep. He’s been planning it since third year. He’s travel mad and this is his parent’s way of getting rid of him, for a while at least.”  
“What? Send him away?”  
“Why not… works doesn’t it?”  
“Well not exactly what I would do, but if it works it works.” Mused Harry. “How come you and Hermione don’t go?”  
“Didn’t you hear?” Ron said sadly, “Hermione still wants her N.E.W.T’s and to sit them properly. To do that means she has to cram hard. Cramming doesn’t exactly go well with a grand European tour suitable for graduating Hogwarts students, does it?”  
“Not really,” Harry hastily added.  
“I mean to say, it’s going to get pretty boring sitting about while she has her nose in every book the library has. What am I supposed to do with all that spare time? Twiddle my fingers? And you will be off with Ginny doing this or that… fun stuff while I have to sit and be quiet while Hermione is having a heart attack over some stupid something-or-other she thinks she has forgotten.”  
Clearly Ron was not happy with Hermione’s decision to sit her N.E.W.T’s but that was Hermione: a book worm to the end. In some ways Harry admired Hermione and her ability to read and retain everything. And then remember it at the right moment. Her mental abilities have saved Harry more times that he cared to remember. That is why he admired her so much. Obviously what Harry admired in Hermione was not necessarily the same as what Ron admired. And right now Ron was not too pleased with his immediate future.  
“So, where is Android and his crowd going?” Harry asked Ron as he tried to change the topic away from Hermione.  
“Dunno really. Think it’s Paris, Rome, Milan, Pisa, San Trope, Barcelona, Madrid, Badajoz, Lisbon, Gibraltar, Casablanca, Athens, Crete, Alexandria, Cairo, the pyramids, Constantinople, up the Danube and down the Rhine, Berlin, Warsaw, St Petersburg, Moscow, Kiev, Riga, Tallinn, Helsinki, Oslo, Copenhagen and ending up at Helgö for a sing-a-long. Or something like that.”  
“What do you mean, something like that? Sounds like you have it all memorized. Were you planning to go?”  
“No, not me. Just a bit interested. Never been to some of those places.”  
“Hang on a moment.” Harry said getting into the cut and thrust of the conversation. “Didn’t you go to Egypt and have a grand vacation while I was stuck at Privet Drive getting bashed about by big bruiser D?”  
“Hay, don’t start reinventing the past. You had to stay there or else the magic wouldn’t work.”  
“Who cares, you were in Egypt and I was in my bedroom at Privet Drive.” Harry was getting into his stride so he added, “So, when were you going to tell me you were going off with Android and friends? Before or after Tom killed me or before or after I killed Tom?”  
“That’s not fair!” Ron said in a loud voice.  
“”No, it’s not fair is it. It’s not fair you took off and it’s not fair I had a weeping Hermione to look after. It’s not fair I lost my wand or yours backfired. It’s not fair Dumbledore didn’t trust me…”  
“And it’s not fair Dumbledore trusted the three of us,” Hermione cut in. “I could hear you two from the end of the corridor. Like a couple of fussing old hens. So, what is it this time?” she glanced from Ron to Harry and back again. They hung their faces in shame at being caught, not in what they were doing because that’s what boys do when they are caught. “N.E.W.T’s is it?” Again no reaction except a twitch from Harry. A twitch Hermione had seen over the years. “You two should know O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T’s and important to me. How else doe a mudblood prove their worth?” Seeing no movement from Ron or Harry Hermione added, “First my parents, then exams and then a rotten Ford Anglia. Any questions?” Again no movement so Hermione sealed the deal with, “Good. Now you two need to get packed.”  
As they moved away Harry asked Hermione, “How long have you known about Android and his trip?”  
“Oh, about third year, I think. It was when he turned in a parchment on his trip to Snape all in verse. Got him detention for the rest of the term. Absolutely magical how he did it. Never used the same word twice.”  
“How do you do something like that? Mean, we don’t exactly learn English here at Hogwarts.” Harry said too quickly.  
“He was always down the other end of the library from us. The literary section while we were always trying to break in to the restricted section.”  
“Oh,” was all Harry could add as Android and Harry moved in very different circles.  
As they climbed the stairs Hermione rambled on with, “You know all the girls got signed copies of a poem he did.”  
“No.”  
“We did. It was a reply to the Passionate Shepherd. Ever heard of him?” Harry let it pass as poetry wasn’t his style. He salted the information away for a quiet moment with Ginny. Then he thought the library might be a better starting point.  
Harry, Ron and Hermione went upstairs to the Gryffindor tower. The boys had not started packing. “Blimy, when did I get those socks?” Ron said holding up three socks. “Three sizes too small and red. When did I wear red socks?”  
“Never. You stole them from a snotty first year a couple years ago… I think. Or was it some girl you were trying to impress… Don’t remember now.”  
“Get back to packing!” Ron said at Harry as he tossed the socks in the recycle pile.  
“You two done?” Came Hermione’s clear voice.  
“No.” Replied Ron.  
“Hurry up, time to go.”  
“Okay, almost there.” Ron said very unconvincingly.  
“I’ll do this later,” Harry said as he pulled out his wand and used the same command Tonk had used: Pack! Harry said as he waved his wand in a long sweeping motion over the floor. His remaining stuff quickly piled into his over-packed trunk. He automatically looked for the cage. There was no cage as there was no Hedwig. Harry missed Hedwig. Harry then said Locomotor Trunk and the trunk rose a few inches off the ground and from then on it was easy to direct the trunk down the steps and into the common room. Hermione and Ginny were waiting for two boys who were late again.  
“Hope you aren’t always this late,” Ginny said quietly to Harry. He turned bright red.  
Ron’s trunk came flying down the stairs, not hitting one step, and skidded to a stop right in front of the common room door. Ron came quickly down the stairs. “That one’s a bit too powerful.” To which Hermione looked heavenward for inspiration. Harry quickly used the same spell on Ron’s truck and that way was able to direct both boys’ trunks. Then all four headed down, into the great hall, through the doors and off to Hogsmeade and a portkey.  
As they walked away from Hogwarts Harry kept looking this way and that, like he would never see the place again. That was when Ginny poked Harry and said, “We’ll be back.”  
“I know,” Harry replied wistfully, “but not as students.”  
“I will, I’ve got one year to go.”  
“Ready?” Mrs. Weasley asked as she looked quickly around. All the other Weasley’s had gone it was time for Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ginny to use a portkey to head back to the Burrow. Once they left Harry looked at Ron and said, Ready?” To which Ron said, “Yea.” They both grabbed the next portkey and they to were taken back to the Burrow.  
They stood outside the Burrow looking back in the general direction of Hogwarts when Ron said, “Guess it’s really over. Never thought it would end like this.”  
“Nor me.”  
As they walked towards the Burrow Ron said in a thoughtful tone, “Tomorrow we’re off to Australia to get Hermione’s parents back. Well maybe not back here, at least get their memories back about Hermione. Going to take some time: hope you don’t mind us leaving you alone at the Burrow?”  
A wide smile spread over Harry’s face. “I won’t be alone. Your mother’s always here.”  
Ron whacked Harry on the arm, “Mother indeed. You’re thinking Ginny. I know you.”  
With that the door suddenly flew open and Ginny stuck her head out and said, “Well, are you two going to spend the rest of the day out there like a couple of old toads croaking away?”  
Then Hermione poked her head out the door and added, “There you are Ron. You’d better get packing for Australia. Going to be winter down there. I think I have enough clothes to keep worm. And the tent. And loads of good books. And loads of high calorie food. That last camping trip taught me I need to be better prepared.”  
Ron looked long at Harry, while Harry was trying not to laugh. If there was anyone prepared it was Hermione. She had the art of planning for the inevitable, unknown, possible and probable eventualities before anyone else had thought of them. Hermione’s small, purple, beaded handbag, the one which she placed an undetectable extension charm on it, was up to the challenges of down under.  
“I’ll get packing in the morning.” Muttered Ron as he stretched out on the couch.  
“Ron.” Harry said quietly, nodding toward Hermione. Ron looked and saw she was not happy. Quietly Harry added, “Ron, they’re her parents. Get packing.”  
“On second thoughts I’d better get packing. Want to help?” Ron said to Harry. Harry pushed Ron out the room and up the stairs.  
“Listen doofus,” Said Harry once they were up in Ron’s room. “Get your act together. These are her parents and she hasn’t seen them in ages. They don’t know her and she is going to have to do some pretty tricky magic to restore their memories. One mistake and that’s it: no parents. Think about that when you put your feet up and let her do all the work.”  
“Okay, okay. That’s Hermione.”  
“No, it’s not okay. Think of her first, not yourself. Remember that book you were reading to impress Hermione? There is a chapter on how to keep the girl once you have caught her. Read it every night until you have it memorized.”  
“Hay, wait a minute, she’s my girlfriend. I think I know how to handle it.”  
“Okay, do it your way. I’m off down stairs to see Ginny.”  
Harry walked to the door when Ron said, “Okay… Okay, I see what you are trying to do is good. Just not my way of doing things.”  
“Ron, this trip is major for Hermione. She’s going to need your support all the way. It’s going to be you two only. No longer us three, just you two. Listen to her. Remember all that running about we did together? If you think about it Hermione was right just about every time. She’s good at things like that. Now she’s facing the biggest challenge of her life. She has chosen you to be there to help her. Be there for her.”  
Ron looked hard at Harry. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Okay, mate. I’d better get packing. Well, better get unpacked so I can get packed.”  
“What are you taking?” Harry asked.  
“Not a clue.” Ron said with a big smile.  
Harry had to laugh. Once a Weasley, always a Weasley. “I’ll offer a suggestion or two.”  
“Thanks. I knew I could rely on you.”

Tuesday May 5, 1998

The next morning there was another round of goodbyes as Hermione and Ron set off to Australia. Arthur and Molly Weasley were very anxious about letting Hermione and Ron take off like that. Since Hermione was going anyway, they thought it was better to have Ron go, rather than Hermione go on her own.  
Their first stop was Diagon Alley for a few days as Hermione had some things to take care of in London before heading out to Heathrow and their BOAC flight to Australia. Hermione said flying was best as that way they were officially in Australia rather than unofficially entering Australia on a couple of old broomsticks.  
The minute Ron and Hermione left for London Harry missed them. The three of them had been through a lot and now things were changing. Tom was dead; there was no need to hide; life could go on normally; and you didn’t have to be afraid of strangers. It was a weird world Harry, Ron and Hermione were joining.


	5. Chapter 5

What a great day for Quidditch,  
all we need is some green grass  
and a set of balls. 

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Harry had never felt this way. School was over, he had graduated, Ron and Hermione were gone to Australia, summer holidays were about to start… and there was nothing to do. Harry had never been in this situation before. He felt out of place. Of course, Ginny could see his discomfort as he wasn’t still for more than three minutes. Harry was sitting in a chair. Then off to the kitchen to see what was going on. Looking at the Weasley clock. Outside to watch the grass grow. Looking at the gnomes. Back inside to sit at the kitchen table drumming his fingers on the table. All of which Mrs. Weasley ignored as she was used to bored kids home form Hogwarts.  
Ginny could not stand it at all. Finally she said in a loud voice, “Come on Harry, it’s time to go outside and practice.”  
Harry gave her a blank look and said, “Practice what?”  
“Quidditch. Let’s see who the best seeker is: me or you.” Once said Ginny ran out and came back with two brooms. She tossed a Cleansweep at Harry, which he caught while she headed out the door. There is nothing better to snap a Quidditch player out of a lethargical mood than a challenge. Harry quickly got up and followed Ginny out the door.  
“You two be careful,” Mrs. Weasley yelled to them as she continued to study the apple crumble recipe Harry had given her. He said it was one of his favorite deserts.  
As Harry came out of the Burrow, Ginny was standing in the clearing with her foot on the box. There are two types of Quidditch boxes, a game box and a practice box. As its name implies, the game box is only used for actual games as the Snitch has never been touched. The practice box is, as its name implies, is used for practice. Before using a practice box, the dials on the box are set. First two dials are to indicate how many players on each team. The key being, the more players there are the bigger the pitch area. Next are two big buttons, red for yes and green for no, to indicate if rings are being used or not. And finally a toggle switch to turn on and off the four indicating lights that delineate the size of the chosen game area.  
Because there are loads of Weasley kids, and friends dropping by all the time, the Weasley game area had been set ages ago as relatively large. It has never been changed despite the fact the family was scattering as they were growing up and moving out of the house.  
Ginny reached down dialed in one-on-one. Then she hit the big green button. Then, finally flicked the switch, which turned on the four lights. Harry’s heart started to go faster. It always did before a game. The second Harry entered the delineated area Ginny used her foot to open the practice box and out zoomed two Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. Since it was one-on-one the Quaffle stayed on the box.  
Exactly how the lights get their power from the game box has never been fully understood. No wires, not batteries, no connection of any sort. About the only person to crack the conundrum was Dr. Emmett Brown, the famous travel pioneer.  
One of many differences between a game Snitch and a practice Snitch is the fact the practice Snitch can learn from previous games. And this Snitch has been with the Weasley’s an awful long time.  
Rather than follow the two Bludgers going up, the Weasley Snitch went straight at Ginny diving between her legs, stayed low hugging the ground and disappeared out of site by heading toward the sun end of the pitch.  
Harry was a bit too slow getting on to his Cleansweep while Ginny was all turned around trying to see where the Snitch went rather then getting on her broom.  
Once air born both had their bats in hand as the Bludgers were on the prowl looking to knock one or both off their brooms. That’s the challenge of one-on-one; especially when it is seeker-on-seeker as seekers don’t look for Bludgers.  
Harry went zooming up to take the high ground and be able to see anything moving below. Ginny did not. She chose to stay low. The second Harry saw Ginny down low fear gripped his stomach. He was wondering why she hadn’t followed him and what did she know that Harry didn’t. Two very different players using different tactics, different approaches and different strategies on how to fool the other. It was at that moment Harry realized girls think different than boys. If Ginny was a boy he would be up with Harry. That was standard Quidditch tactics at the beginning of any game: gain the high ground as quickly as possible.  
Harry was spending too much time looking down with one eye and keeping another eye on Ginny that he failed to see the up and coming Bludger. It wasn’t until the very last second he knew one was there that he swerved and struck out with his bat. He missed so badly that he spun out of control, which, fortunately for Harry, allowed the Bludger to go zooming by. Flying upside down, holding on with a free hand while the other has the bat in it is not the usual seeker flying position.  
Harry was getting frustrated. He knew one-on-one requires a totally different set of skills, skills he didn’t have.  
Suddenly Ginny took off at a remarkable speed across the ground. She was staying low that Harry knew she must be on to something. He flipped his Cleansweep into s steep dive to come in close on Ginny’s right. Like lightning he zoomed down in a near vertical dive pulling out inches behind and to Ginny’s right. Harry blinked to clear his eyes and when he opened them Ginny was gone.  
When flying very low to the ground your viewing area is limited as you have to make sure you don’t smash into something while looking all around. Ginny was gone and Harry didn’t know where. His first instinct was to turn around and check the area, just in case she crashed. His second instinct was to look about and check the area, just in case she was hurt. His third instinct was to play the game. His indecision was his doom. When he pulled up he saw Ginny standing over by the box waving the Snitch at him.  
Harry was mad… really mad at being outsmarted by Ginny. Even though this was supposed to be a fun one-on-one game, for Harry winning was everything. Especially winning at Quidditch.  
Ginny was all smiles when Harry came over. Her, “Hallow Sweetie,” did not go over too well while Harry worked extra hard to hide his displeasure at loosing the first game and loosing it so easily. “Ready to start?” was Ginny’s question. Harry nodded.  
According to practice rules, the winner of the last game gets to take the Snitch anywhere in the area and let it go. That means the last winner has a huge advantage over the other players. Harry knew the rules and stayed standing on the ground while Ginny went off at a high rate of speed going higher and higher. Since there was no audience, practice Quidditch is played all the way up to thin air where special ‘catching’ spells exist just in case a player falls off their broom due to a lack of oxygen.  
Several minutes passed as Ginny went higher and higher until Harry lost sight of her. Then the deep booming voice came from the practice box saying, “Go!” At which Harry too off. All he knew was Ginny was way up high and he was way down low. Harry’s assumption was a simple one. If Ginny was up high, that is where the Snitch should be.  
As Harry kicked his Cleansweep into high gear going up, Ginny went zooming down at a fantastic rate of speed. Her hair was streaming back with one hand stretched out as if to grab the Snitch. This was too much for Harry so he did a very tight U-turn, almost blacking out, and took off trying to catch up to Ginny.  
As he zoomed down he saw a blur going by him the other way. Now Ginny was going up at the speed of light!  
A feeling of total frustration swept over Harry. He was going down at an alarming rate of speed while Ginny was going up equally fast. The question being, where on earth was the Snitch? Rather than hit the ground hard, Harry had to make a decision. Using common sense, If Ginny was up high when she let go the Snitch, and now she was going high, logic dictated the Snitch must be up high… somewhere. So Harry made another U-turn. Rather than risk blacking out he made the turn a bit more gentler than his last one and then off he went. All this zooming about was nothing like his usual style of staying high and looking about.  
Again Harry forgot about the Bludgers. As he was going up one Bludger was approaching from the right and the other from the left to intersect Harry’s trajectory.  
Coming out of the sun was the Snitch with Ginny only inches behind. The pair went zooming downward missing Harry by not much. As Ginny went past she yelled, “Bludgers! Watch out!” At the warning Harry flinched. He flinched just in time as the two balls went by between his head and his Cleansweep.  
Now Harry was totally frustrated. He was relieved he didn’t get smashed between two Bludgers and angry that Ginny was going to catch the Snitch… again. And he was really flummoxed about how easily she was outsmarting him.  
Harry wrenched his Cleansweep through the air and chased down one of the Bludgers and gave is a hard whack just to get some frustration out of his system. It didn’t help. He was still mad at the game and himself for allowing Ginny to dictate the game.  
Again, Ginny was waiting for him at the box. Harry came gently in to land beside her. Brightly Ginny said, “Hallow Sweetie! Ready for another game?”  
“Yes,” Was his sure reply. Harry was working under the assumption that Lady Luck must smile his way soon. With that Ginny took off with the Snitch. This time she stayed close to the ground and over the other side of a slight rise disappearing from Harry’s view. A few seconds later she went into a vertical clime, which must have been right at the area boundary as she was far away. Harry watched her climb to take the high ground and then the deep booming voice came from the practice box saying, “Go!” At which Harry too off. This time the lurking Bludger got him hard on the shoulder. He dropped his club in pain. He knew the Bludger would circle and try again and again. That’s what Bludgers do when playing one-on-one. Harry knew he needed his club just like the Bludger knew Harry needed his club. Since attack is the best form of defense Harry did a barrel roll as he executed a loop to swoop in to get his club. His fingers wrapped around the club and made sure contact on the Bludger with it. With one Bludger hurtling out of the way Harry knew the other would be close by. The second Bludger was coming at Harry from a steep angle. Harry clobbered the second Bludger as he came to the apex of his loop. Quickly Harry started upward looking for Ginny and the Snitch. Higher and higher Harry climbed into the empty sky. He saw nothing. Wondering what he missed while fooling about with the Bludgers a deep fear started in the pit of his stomach. A fear of failing yet again. Harry went higher and higher just in case Ginny was at the upper limits. Now the fear turned into reality. Ginny was not there.  
Rather than go straight down, Harry went downward doing a gentle spiral so he could look in every corner all the way down. As he got closer to the ground he saw Ginny resting in deck chair, eyes closed and the Snitch in her right hand. Harry was getting a nasty taste in his mouth from eating so much humble pie. Without opening her eyes, Ginny gently waved the Snitch in the air making sure Harry saw it yet again in her hand. As he landed he noticed the broom Ginny had been using. It was not the Cleansweep he was expecting her to use. His sharp eyes rested on the graceful P1000 carved into the handle of the latest and newly up-rated Thunderbolt. Harry’s eyes were wide open. The Thunderbolt was pretty much equal to his old Firebolt. But the new P1000 put that version of the Thunderbolt a cut above Firebolt.  
“Where did you get that?” Fumed Harry.  
“Get what?” a restful Ginny asked.  
“That broom?” Harry added trying to stay calm. A game is a game so long as it is even. But when the opposition has a definite advantage, the game is not fair and not fun to play.  
“Oh, it came by owl the other day.”  
“Just like that… by owl?”  
“Oh, I think it was a brown owl. Yes definitely a brown owl. Does that help?”  
“No it doesn’t. Whose is it?  
“It’s mine. All mine. Still got a year left at Hogwarts and I’m going to fight every inch of every game for the house cup. Remember the old saying Gryffindor Rules Okay!”  
“I remember. But where did it come from?”  
“Oh Harry, I’ve already told you… it came by owl from the factory. Well I suppose it was a factory. Isn’t that where they make brooms… Don’t they?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“Why not? I thought you knew everything about Quidditch. A good Quidditch player should know where his broom is made to make sure there are no spells, hexes or the like secretly on it.”  
That is when Harry realized what had happened. “Hang on, wait a minute. I thought I was asking you about your broom, not me about mine. Who bought the broom for you? That broom,” Harry said as he pointed at the P1000.  
“Oh, that. George did. Said he wanted to give me something for school. Got to admit I didn’t expect a broom for Quidditch. I thought it was a joke broom from his shop and he wanted me to clean the floors. That’s when Fleur spotted the P1000. Didn’t know she knew her Quidditch from a soufflé.” Harry flopped on to the ground beside Ginny. The anger he felt quickly subsided. He was finding it hard to be angry while Ginny was about. “You know Harry; I’ve been playing Quidditch here since before I could walk. Had an old beat-up beginner broom called a Dog-Trotter. Been through all the boys and just had enough power left in it to get my toes off the ground. At first I was totally petrified and then, all of a sudden, it became fun scooting about chasing chickens and gnomes. Did that for a couple of years or so until I borrowed one of the boy’s brooms and started going higher and higher.  
“During sleepovers I made sure us girls had fun on the brooms. The boys hated it as we have fun not like boys do, you know, smashing Bludgers at each other.  
“Then when I turned eight I was allowed to join the boys any time I wanted to play. You know, equality in house rules. And if the boys didn’t pick me, mum picked on them pretty hard. Being the only girl meant I had to be twice as good as the boys. And, over the years I’ve had to get better or else.  
“Down here, there is a big deal put on get-togethers. You know, family or school or local or county wide get-togethers. Specially Michaelmas festivals. We liked going as we entered the three and four aside family Quidditch tournaments. You know, rules modified for local people to play.  
“We’re not professional by any means, just like a good game rather than sitting about the house getting fat and lazy.”  
“But you didn’t tell me you had a P1000. You should have said!” Harry fumed at the injustice of it all.  
Ginny looked at Harry with a glint in her eye. “Would it have made a difference? Would you have refused to play? Come on Harry, a craftsman never blames his tools… does he?”  
That is exactly what Wood drummed into him years ago. ‘A Quidditch player is, first, part of the team, and, second, responsible to the team.’ And, ‘A Quidditch player shall always be ready to play at any time and in any condition.’ And finally, ‘A Quidditch player shall never blame another team member, his broom or his bat.’  
Harry knew Ginny was right nevertheless he hated to admit she was right. It was tough eating humble pie all the time. Lying on his back, Harry let out a long sigh and finally said, “You’re right.”  
Ginny leaned on the side of her deck chair. She had a really cute smile on her face. “Glad you see it that way Sweetie as I did have home field advantage.”  
Harry smiled to himself and replied with, “Oh come on Ginny… out here… what home field advantage is there?”  
“Well, since you don’t see it, I shan’t tell you so I can do it all again.”  
“No there isn’t. This is a box all the way to the top.”  
“That is what all of Fred’s friends said when they came out for a friendly game. They always lost. And if you don’t believe me, go ask Bill or Fred. They’ll tell you the truth.”  
Harry jumped to his feet and casually strolled round where Ginny was still lounging. All he could see was green grass as far as the four lights outlining the game area. Then he looked up and saw nothing. Nothing special on the ground and nothing special in the sky. Then the thought came to him, ‘What would Dumbledore do?’  
“Harry… Harry… could you spare a moment?” It was Mrs. Weasley calling from the kitchen door. Harry got up and had a start. Mrs. Weasley had a distinct white look about her. Harry took off with Ginny slowly following. All she knew was when things were getting interesting; someone always pops up and needs Harry for this or that. Life is full of curves in all the wrong places.  
Harry opened the kitchen door to see a total mess of a kitchen. In the middle of the mess was Mrs. Weasley. “Hello dear, bit of a mess. Couldn’t cross your recipe from muggle to wizard so I thought I’d give it a go by hand.”  
It was about this time that Ginny stepped in to the kitchen and said, “What happened?”  
“Ah Ginny. Bit of a mess. Be a dear and lend a hand with Harry’s recipe while I clean up a bit.”  
Ever since they first met Mrs. Weasley has had a soft spot for Harry. That is why she was trying to make Harry’s apple crumble using Harry’s old recipe he got from Aunt Petunia’s family cookbook. As much as he liked Mrs. Weasley’s rhubarb crumble it lacked that certain something that Aunt Petunia’s apple crumble had.  
Ginny looked at Harry and Harry could see she was not at all happy. Harry quickly grabbed the sticky and flour coated recipe and said to Ginny, “Okay, let’s have a go: together.”  
“Okay,” Ginny said feeling a bit better that Harry was going to stick about. “What’s first?” she asked.  
“Crumble first. That is what my Aunt always did.”  
“Why?”  
“Don’t know, just did.”  
“Okay, what’s in the recipe?”  
Harry cleaned the paper a bit to read, “All purpose flour, butter and sugar.”  
“That’s it?”  
“That’s it.”  
“How much of each?”  
Harry stared at the paper as there were no measurements listed. He flipped it over to reveal a blank side. He was about to pull out his wand to check for secret numbers and then remembered that it was he who copied the recipe from his Aunt’s list of ‘special recipe’s Dudley loved.’ He gave Ginny a blank look and then added, “Don’t know.”  
Ginny gave him a look and then said, “Okay, let’s just mix and see what happens.” Ginny was not sure what would happen as doing cooking by hand was not her style: wizards had spells for all that stuff.  
Harry grabbed the bag of flour and poured in enough. Then he added in a big dab of butter. After washing his hands he looked at Ginny and then plunged his hands into the bowl and stopped.  
“What?” Asked Ginny.  
“Thinking. Trying to remember what my Aunt did next. Been a while since she last made it for Dudley.” Then Harry said, “She rubbed the stuff together.” And Harry started to gently rub the flour and butter together. It was a lot easier than he thought it would be.  
There was a sudden crack and there stood Gossiter on the other side of the kitchen table. Harry was wondering where he was, but was not bothered too much. House-elves can easily take care of themselves. When Gossiter saw Harry busy with his fingers in the mixing basin he was very surprised and said, “Master Potter that is Elf work you are doing!”  
“Is it?”  
“Yes Sir. Wizards are not supposed to do that type of work. That is for house-elves to do.”  
“Who said it was house-elves work?” Ginny asked. It has always bothered her that her pure blood family never had a house-elf to help about the house.  
Gossiter was about to say something and then stopped. Then he said, “I don’t know Miss, but I shall go and ask the head house-elf at Hogwarts. He is sure to know and I shall return!” With that Gossiter disappeared in a flash.  
“You sure you want a house-elf?” Ginny asked.  
“I inherited him from Kreacher and it wouldn’t be right to kick him out. He doesn’t have any family. All lost during the fight.”  
“Oh, I see what you mean.” Ginny said thoughtfully. “Then you better hang on to him.”  
Harry got busy working on the flour and butter until all the butter was gone. He looked at it thoughtfully and then asked Ginny, “What do you think?”  
“Looks sticky. Too much butter.”  
“That’s what I was thinking. Better add some more flour.” Which he did and rubbed it into the rest of the mix.  
Ginny looked at the mix and gave a nod of approval. “That looks better. Sort of right.”  
Harry sort of heard Ginny but was really miles away thinking about the feeling of the spells on the Hogwarts walls. He could feel them just like he could feel this flour and butter on his fingers. The feeling was similar but different. Then he remembered his one and only trip with Professor Dumbledore to get the Horcrux locket from the cave. How Dumbledore went over the rock with his hand to find the entrance to the cave. Dumbledore could feel where the entrance was, and knew what the price of admission was. Dumbledore did it again when he put his hand up to take hold of the chain, he could feel the right location. Then Harry remembered what Dumbledore said during the cave visit, ‘Magic always leaves traces. Sometimes very distinctive traces. I taught Tom Riddle. I know his style.’ So the question rattling around Harry’s head was, how do you feel these traces? How do you know what to do once you feel the traces? How did Dumbledore know the right thing to do? Was it all to do with Tom’s style? Could Dumbledore out fox the fox… out smell the skunk… out think the pupil? Or was it a simple case of age and skill overcoming youth and treachery!?  
“Oi, Harry, you with us?” Ginny said in a loud voice.  
A startled Harry came back to the present with, “I was thinking.”  
“I could see that. What were you thinking of?”  
“The spells at Hogwarts that are still there.”  
“The ones you are going to remove.”  
“Yep, those ones.”  
“And?”  
“And what?”  
“What were you thinking of?”  
“A possible notion.”  
“A possible notion to get rid of them?”  
“Something like that. Not sure yet. Sort of a work in progress.”  
“So long as you get rid of them before school starts. I’d like to have a normal last year with only books, scrolls, herbs, exams and mandrakes to worry about. So get a move on.”  
“Okay, okay, I’m working on it.”  
“You weren’t. You were daydreaming about it.”  
Harry turned a bright red and said, “What’s next to add in?”  
“Nice topic change,” Ginny said with a smile on her face, “Only the sugar.”  
Then Harry remembered the secret apple question Dudley always used on his doting mother, “Mother, are the apples Cox’s, Granny Smith’s or cookers?” If the answer was Cox’s then Dudley would walk away without further comment. If the answer was Granny Smith’s or cookers, then Dudley would always ask for more sugar in the crumble.  
So Harry followed Dudley’s example by asking, “What type of apples did your mother get?”  
“Just the usual ones.”  
“Which is, or rather which type?”  
“Never bothered to ask. An apple is an apple to a Weasley.”  
“Sour or regular?”  
Oh, regular, never sour.”  
A smile of success spread across Harry’s face. He said, “Pass the sugar and I’ll do the adding.” Carefully Harry added relatively little into the mix and then made sure the sugar was evenly distributed throughout the mix. “All done. Now for the apples.”  
“Peace of cake,” Ginny said as she pulled out her wand. “There’s a spell for that.” The apples lined up to be peeled and sliced into the dish and then Harry covered then with the crumble mix. After smoothing out the crumble he popped the dish into the oven. Once done, Ginny picked up the pace to clean up the remaining bits and bobs in the kitchen until everything was spick and span. Only thing remaining was to wait for the crumble to be done and then smothered in double Devon cream for hungry souls to devour.  
“Let’s go for a walk,” Ginny said as she spied he mother coming down the stairs. Once outside and away from the house, Ginny started with, “This has been a good day. A day I shall remember…”  
She was cut short by Gossiter reappearing. “Master, the head house-elf said cooking is for house-elves to do: not for wizards.”  
“Okay, so do you have a recipe for apple crumble?”  
“I don’t know. I shall go and ask the head house-elf at Hogwarts that question.” And in a flash was gone.  
Ginny giggled and said, “You have to stop doing that. The elves at Hogwarts will be tired of Gossiter and his questions.”  
“Isn’t that the way we were back at the beginning of our first year? All messed up, scared and had to ask loads of questions…”  
“Which you never answered properly, if I remember rightly?” Ginny said as she cut in on Harry.  
“Me! Are you accusing me of sending poor first years the wrong way?”  
“Oh Harry, you are so full of it. Of course you did. All I ever heard was how rotten you and Ron were to my year. Picking on them. Sending them in the wrong direction to class and telling the house ghosts the new first years were stuck up and needed a good dusting off.”  
“Oh yeh, I forgot about that. We had some fun in that year.” Then Harry added, “Had to make sure Hermione was out of the way or else we got an ear full.”  
“That’s why I like her. She didn’t put up with stuff from you two.”  
“I wonder how she is doing?” Harry added in a wistful voice. He was missing Ron and Hermione while he was still thinking about the crumble and feeling the texture change as he added each ingredient. While sitting there he made up his mind to follow in Dumbledore’s footsteps and see if he to could sense the door to the cave.  
That evening Mr. Weasley was home for dinner. It was a quiet affair with only Mr. & Mrs. Weasley with Harry and Ginny. As the meal progressed Harry felt the conversation was very odd, he felt awkward and uncomfortable. Then he wondered how come he felt that way. It wasn’t any thing he ate or said or did. It was a feeling he had. Then his mind wandered onto the ability given to everyone to know truth from lies. How does it work? How is that ability given and how do you know, really know a truth from a lie?  
Then Ginny gave him a boot under the table and looked at his reaction as he realized his fork was in mid air going nowhere. “Sorry, just thinking.”  
“What about dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.  
“Soufflé’s.”  
“Really,” Mr. Weasley said brightly. “Haven’t had one in a long while. I think the last time was on our trip to Spain. How long ago was that?” he asked his wife.  
“Oh, before we had kids. Yes, before we had kids. That’s the trip we went spelunking at Gibraltar. Trying to find the lost tunnel to Morocco.”  
“Yes, that’s the one. Ah, a good trip that was… then the kids came and life got better.” Mr. Weasley had been studying the art of tact and diplomacy: and it showed.  
Harry kicked Ginny and gave her a flash of a smile. Then added, “I think I have to be going back to Hogwarts. Have things to do.”  
“Like what?” Mr. Weasley asked as if what Harry was going to do was the most important thing in the world.  
“I’ve been assigned the task of getting rid of the spells still lingering about.”  
“Oh yes, after a battle some spells are harder to remove than others.” Then Mr. Weasley went quiet. He was thinking of his son, Fred. “Yes, well, you better get going. School will soon be here and we don’t want any loose spells lying about: do we?”  
“In the morning, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Leave it for the morning.”  
That evening Harry and Ginny went for a walk that got longer the longer they talked. Time lost its hold as they chatted about school, families, friends, exams, funny instances, muggle and wizard food, and thousand other small things that teenagers talk about because they are important to the now. As they strolled, hand in hand, Harry was so happy all he could do was smile at finally being with his Ginny.  
They had walked so far Harry had no clue where they were, Ginny did so she pointed the way home. As they got closer to the Burrows Harry eased the walk about the Weasley Quidditch pitch. Harry wanted to have another look at it in light of Ginny’s claiming home field advantage. Harry looked but saw nothing out of the unusual so pushed what Ginny said about ‘home field advantage’ of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Wednesday May 6, 1998

 

"If a player is not interfering with play  
or seeking to gain an advantage,  
then he should be."

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Ginny wanted to go back to Hogwarts with Harry but her mother said no as there were no chaperones on duty during the summer. As much as she disagreed with her parents there was no movement on the decision. After a good breakfast and once repacked Harry had to say bye to Ginny.  
“It will just be a few days. I have to get going on the spells.”  
“But why you? There are loads of professors there who could do it.”  
“I said I will do it and I will. Also the spells seem to be from Tom Riddle and Professor McGonagall thinks I’m the best person to do it.”  
“Even though he’s dead Riddle is still here.”  
“Yeh, I’ve been thinking that to.” Harry said, “Like killing him was the easy part while now we have to clean up the mess he left behind. Since I’ll be at Hogwarts I’ll have Dumbledore in the paintings to talk to: if he is about. Funny that, he’s off all over the place, just as bad as when he was headmaster… only showing up for meals and meetings.”  
“You know what you need to do.”  
“What?” Replied Harry.  
“Try and nail down the relationship between Snape and Dumbledore. There seems to have been a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes. You know, Dumbledore never said more than what was needed. Isn’t that what you said Aberforth said? Like you knew stuff that Snape didn’t. While he knew stuff that you didn’t. If you could somehow put the bits together, you might get something out of it.”  
Harry got quiet as he thought about what Ginny had said. She had insight similar to Hermione. Like girls have in innate intuition instinctively different from boys. “Humm, I think you are right. Not sure how to do it since both Snape and Dumbledore are dead… but you never know what could turn up if I look.” Then Harry got serious, “I think the past week has changed things a lot. I mean, I’m not on the run and I can be with you. That’s about the best thing that could happen.” Ginny wrapped herself about Harry and gave him a hug. He returned the hug and then gently kissed her.  
With a special look on her face Ginny replied with, “You were worth waiting for. And don’t you ever forget that Harry Potter! ”  
“I won’t.” Replied Harry as he closed his eyes only to see good times with his Ginny extending into the far distance.  
Then Ginny said in a serious tone, “Be careful, Harry. I worry about you.”  
“Still here ain’t I.”  
“It’s not a laughing matter. You had Ron and Hermione somewhere about. Not now. So send me an owl as often as you can. And don’t forget your coins. They still work and I’ll get there fast.”  
After saying good bye to Mrs. Weasley Harry and his trunk disapparated. The same tight squeezing feeling was there. Something he would never get used to. The compressive pressure came and when as he apparated he was outside the Hog’s Head Inn, Hogsmeade Village, just down the road from Hogwarts. He arrived at the place he meant which meant he was getting pretty accurate at disapparating and apparating.  
Harry flicked his wand at his trunk. It shrunk down to a size suitable to pop it into his moleskin pouch. With that he opened the door and entered the Hog’s Head Inn.  
Of all the drinking establishments at Hogsmeade the Hog’s Head was the smallest and most disreputable. Dust, dirt, grime and a somewhat ‘sticky’ stone floor are the order of the day. If the tables are clean, then it was by accident not design. The sort of place where the rough and tumble feel at home and its best to keep your hood low and your face hidden. This is the place Harry Potter entered with a sure foot.  
On the other side of the bar was Aberforth Dumbledore busy watching a row of pint glass mugs get cleaned: magic style. When the door opened Aberforth’s eyes scanned the new entrant, smiled and said, “Hello Mr. Potter. Been a while since we last spoke. Seems everything turned out just fine.”  
Harry smiled as he closed the door and walked over to the bar and said, “Yeh, not bad for someone who didn’t have a clue what to do, where to go or how to do it.” With that Harry stuck out his hand and gripped Aberforth’s offered hand in a sure grip.  
“Winged it, did you?”  
“Isn’t that how it’s always done?” Harry replied with a big smile on his face. “I came to say thank you. Without your help I’m sure it would have turned out very differently.”  
“No, you would have come up with something different.” Then Aberforth peered over his glasses at Harry. “You are nothing like my brother: he never winged anything. And I heard you like cooking.” Harry was about to protest when Aberforth carried on with, “Mr. Potter is common knowledge amongst the house-elves. None of the great magicians, wizards or anyone else has ever dabbled in crumble, let alone apple crumble.” Then with a twinkle in his eye Aberforth added, “Apple crumble has suddenly become a hot seller. Had to go to Hogwarts library to look that one up. Never had it before. The recipe is hot currency and every house-elf at Hogwarts has been busy learning the tricks of cool fingers and using the tips of your fingers to get the crumble just right. And, of course, a magic spell is being developed to copy the best crumble for use at Hogwarts for the school opening feast!”  
Harry really could not believe this and said so by saying, “You are kidding… you are pulling my leg. You really expect me to believe this… all over apple crumble I haven’t had in a while?”  
Aberforth peered harder at Harry. “Young man, you really don’t realize what has happened, do you?”  
“Of course I do, I was there.”  
“You were there and now people are free to go about their normal lives. Normal and normality have been in short supply these past several years. You have given that to every one in the wizard world. They are grateful, but don’t let that go to your head. And, somehow, I don’t see that happening if you carry on dabbling in crumble and the like.”  
“Since I’m here how about a Butterbeer.” Harry said as he grabbed a stool to sit on.  
“Coming right up. Fancy trying my latest crumble. Bit different. I added some cinnamon bits in with the apples.”  
“Do you have any cream to go with it?”  
A very surprised Aberforth came back with the butterbeer and said, “No one said anything about cream. Why cream?”  
“It goes together. And not just any cream, it has to be double Devon cream.”  
You are like my brother. Kept that one close to your chest.”  
“Not me. Just went down to the local muggle shop in the village and picked up a coupe of jars and that was it.” Harry could tell that Aberforth was not amused. Having the crumble was good. Having the crumble with the right cream made it great. And right now all Aberforth had was half a story. “Hang on a moment. I’ll be back.” With that Harry disapparated and was back about ten minutes later with two jars of cream.  
“Now you get two bowls of hot apple crumble and I will add the cream. Then you will see it is a necessary part of eating apple crumble.” Faster than you could say caterwauling Aberforth whipped out his wand and had two steaming bowls of apple crumble skidding to a halt right in front. Harry opened and carefully poured the double Devon cream on to each bowl. As he poured Harry said, “Now don’t bolt your food. Savor the flavors… and let’s dig in!”  
Once the bowls were polished clean, Harry said, in a very contented voice, “That was bloody brilliant! You adding in the cinnamon gave it that something special.”  
“The cream,” Aberforth said slowly, “did it for me. The added texture, the coolness, the flavor made it perfect. Sadly, I think this will not help me in my quest for the trim figure I once had.”  
“Hay mate, any chance having what you are having,” said a voice from the spot next to the fire. “Looks good.”  
“It’s not ‘hay mate’ it’s ‘excuse me landlord.’ I hope we are of the same understanding.”  
“Sorry Mr. Landlord. Still, any chance of a bowl?”  
“Maybe once I have finished my discussion with this patron.”  
“Sorry Mr. Landlord. Didn’t know.”  
Turning to Harry Aberforth said, “That was good cream and apple crumble. Sadly work calls but please drop by when you are down this way.”  
“Will do.” Harry said as he downed his butterbeer and left.  
Just before the door closed he heard the man by the fire say, “Bit young to let in?” and then the door closed. Harry smiled to himself. At seventeen he didn’t think himself as young. That was the title he gave first year students at Hogwarts.  
Rather than take the direct route Harry’s meandering route took him over to the Shrieking Shack. He wasn’t sure why. Professor Snape’s body had long gone and has been buried in his family’s cemetery.  
Getting Professor Snape buried with his family had been touch and go. The initial feeling was to send his body to Azcaban as that was what he deserved. Harry had to argue long and hard how he was wrong about Professor Snape and that he was working hand in hand with Professor Dumbledore.  
Harry entered the shack and walked about all the time remembering what had happened right here only a few nights ago. It seemed so unreal, so unnatural, and so sadly final. Harry found a spot and sat down to think. How could his father and then himself had hated Snape so much? So much so that father and son used some vile spells on him. Then again Snape did not exactly endear himself to anyone except Harry’s mum.  
“Why is life to difficult?” Harry said in a quiet wistful voice to no one in particular. Then something Ginny said came to mind. It went something like…

That which is good is light; and he that receives light, and continues in light, receives more light; and that light grows brighter and brighter until the perfect day. And that is the way you can discern truth from error.

Harry closed his eyes and put out his hand just like he remembered Dumbledore did at the entrance to the lake. Slowly hr moved his hand about feeling what he could and trying to discern what he did not know. As he concentrated on his hand his fingers started to get a little cooler. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure if it was because of the weather or of what he was trying to feel. So Harry tried again. He put out his hand and slowly moved it about. This time he parted his fingers a little and tried to imagine he was running his fingers though the crumble, feeling its different textures. Harry tried and nothing happened. Since Stonehenge wasn’t built in a day, he was content with this first try.  
As Harry got up, he dusted himself down and started to head out of the shack, something over by the edge of the wall caught his eye. Propped up against the wall was a stick. Harry looked closely as he picked it up. It was not just any stick it was Professor Snape’s wand. He must have dropped it or fell out of his clothes at the end. Harry twiddled it through his fingers and while he did so he thought.  
Since he never won the wand it would not serve him properly. If he kept it he could use it. But why keep it? Then he thought of his mother. The look on her face made him stop snapping the wand in two. When he relaxed his destructive grip the vision of his mother changed from apprehension to thankfulness. Harry looked at the wand and put it into his moleskin pouch and headed towards Hogwarts. He had work to do.  
Since it was officially closed for the summer holidays Hogwarts house-elves were busy cleaning the place from top to bottom under the direction of Argus Filch caretaker of Hogwarts. As Harry was walking towards the building he could feel the difference. The building doesn’t make Hogwarts, it’s the people who use the building that do: and that’s the difference.  
`The minute Harry walked up the stairs and through the great doors that were open to let in light and fresh air in the chit-chat of the elves suddenly stopped. All eyes turned to the intruder. Then a sudden shriek of delight as Harry was instantly recognized. The house-elves dropped mops, rags, pails of water were knocked over as the elves all surged forward to greet the latest and most well known professor to ever grace Hogwarts. Hands were thrust out, backs were patted and then, very quietly, the words to “For he’s a jolly good fellow” were sung. The repeat was a little louder and the next louder again. The swelling song brought more and more elves into the great hall and finally Filtch and cat arrived wanting to know who was stopping work.  
“Stop this ruckus!” Bellowed Filtch. Of course ever house-elf ignored him. Everyone was looking at the smiling Harry Potter. The only wizard in living memory ever to free an elf. The only wizard to have the sad duty of burying an elf. The only wizard to work with elves as an equal, not an underling.  
Gossiter came flying round a corner and smashed into some water filled buckets sending them flying all over the place. Once he picked himself up from the mess on the floor he said in a somewhat squeaky voice, “Master Potter! Here at Hogwarts. Such an honor. What are you doing here?” All the other house-elves turned and looked hard at Gossiter for talking to Professor Potter in such a familiar manner. They forgot Gossiter was a free elf and could talk to Harry like that.  
“Hi Gossiter. Nice entrance. You need to work on staying up and not tumbling like that.”  
“Yes master, I shall work on it.”  
“Have work to do and need to get started. So I thought, while it was quiet, I’d come for a few days. Didn’t know it was cleaning time.”  
“Oh yes master. This is a big place and has to be properly cleaned before school starts. Can’t have pupils coming to a dirty Hogwarts. We house-elves have our pride. If word got out that we had not been doing our job no one would ever want one of us. So summer is an important time for us. We even have several extra elves come in just for the summer.  
“Okay, chit chat over, back to work and get this mess cleaned up!” Filtch said in a loud voice as he tried to establish order. He nodded to Harry and added, “Good to see you, Professor Potter. Glad at least one professor is here to start getting ready for the new school year. Too many teachers show up the day school starts. Not how the school used to be run: Not like the good-old-days when punishment was punishment. These days all they get is detention. Blah, too soft these days.”  
Harry was so surprised by how Filtch was treating him that he could not think of a single word to say.  
“Get that water cleaned up and make sure no water gets under the feet of the statues or armor. And put more elbow grease into polishing the armor. Someone was slack on the upstairs armor; guess someone thought just because it is up high, no one goes there. Well I do! So get back up there and polish everything again!. I hired cleaners not slackers. Don’t like slackers. Do you Professor Potter?”  
“Of course not Mr. Flitch. Carry on. You are a stalwart member of the staff. Place couldn’t do with out your dedication to detail.” Harry had the hardest time keeping a straight face while speaking to Filtch. This sudden change, vis-à-vis Filtch, was too surreal to handle. He had to get away. His savior was a small house-elf pulling on his robes.  
“Excuse me, Mr. Potter. The chief house-elf would appreciate if you could spare him a minute of your most valuable time.”  
“Of course I can.” Turning to Filtch Harry said, “Carry on cleaning Mr. Filtch. Carry on while I attend to important professor matters down in the kitchen.” With that the beaming house-elf escorted Harry down the stairs to the kitchen and to the small and cramped head house-elf office.  
“Thank you for coming down here, Mr. Potter. Age and infirmities make getting about a bit of a challenge.” Harry waved the explanation aside. He knew the chief house-elf was no spring chicken. “I would like to express my deepest gratitude from all the house-elves for what you did the other day. Freedom has a price and you were willing to put it all on the line. Us house-elves were privileged to be of assistance, a minor part, in the overall victory.”  
Harry guessed correctly the old house-elf could not join in the battle as it raged all over the place. The spirit might be willing while the body is unable to do so.  
“I’d like to correct that,” Harry said, “The house-elves played a key part. I can promise you their constant harassment was important. They cleared out the death-eaters, which allowed the stage to be ready for the final showdown. Never let anyone say Hogwarts house-elves were not in the thick of it.”  
“From you, that is indeed high praise. I shall let the others know of your most kind words.  
“If I might be so bold, I’d like to change topics to young Gossiter. Sadly Kreacher is not recovering as we expected and we have assigned young Gossiter as a temporary help until Kreacher is back on his feet. We don’t want to leave you in a lurch.”  
“No problem. Don’t need that much help anyway.”  
“Maybe not at the moment. Maybe in the immediate future you will.”  
Harry was getting the message loud and clear, everyone knew and knows about Ginny and himself. There are no secrets in a wizard world. Harry nodded in agreement.  
It was about that time the house-elves filed back in to the kitchen and back to cleaning all the pots. Hogwarts has one of the best collections of copper bottomed pots and pans of various sizes. The collection started with Kenneth I (843-858). Or better to say, someone borrowed a pot from the kitchen of Kenneth I and has consistently failed to return it. Which one of the founding four actually did the borrowing has been lost to history. They did the same to for Donald I (858-862) and so on down to James VI (1569-1625) of Scotland and James I of England. That is why he has two pots in the kitchen. From then on the collecting of pots has been consistent through the various generations. The only exception being Edward VIII as he was never crowned so no pots were made so none were borrowed. To reserve his place in line a chamber pot was selected.  
The last pot to be borrowed came from the kitchen of Elizabeth II. Not the Buckingham Palace kitchens, rather the Balmoral Castle kitchens as they are Scottish and closer to Hogwarts. After the Elizabeth II pot is a second chamber pot holding a space and then the last in the line is a replica of the Holy Grail symbolizing the desire to be ruled by one worthy to wield Excalibur in defense of God, country and a family run by a husband and wife.  
The history of Hogwarts is as diverse as the people who work there as well as the students who attend school there.  
The chief house-elf continued the story with, “Young Gossiter’s parents died battling Voldemort the last time. In this battle he lost his older brother. Now Kreacher is his only living relative; that’s why we are keeping them together.”  
Harry had not given much thought of the collateral damage others had suffered. This was not a wizard battle only, others were there willing to fight to the death despite Tom having the death stick. “He is welcome to come and stay.”  
“Knew I could rely on you to assist over this rough patch.”  
Looking about the busy kitchen Harry had to ask, “You clean everything?”  
“The summer break is our busy time. Everything comes down, gets opened, gets moved and everything has to be scrubbed bright. We don’t want any young student getting sick because we are not doing our responsibility. You see, it’s like this. Once school starts our concern is food: a lot of food to prepare and then move on to the next meal. Wizards seem to like our food and pack it away. We clean everything after each meal but it is not a deep clean and inspection as what we do now. Cracks, chips, loose handles, and the like have to be fixed and then cleaned again. All done during summer.  
“That is why we are not doing meals during the summer. Not enough time. So staff have to fend for themselves. The usual place is Hogsmeade. They do very well over the summer. Maybe not so this year. Battle scars to clean up is not what most wizards are skilled in doing. Usually special wizards are called in. Ones skilled in the dark arts who know the antidotes.”  
The chief house-elf gave Harry a hard stare. Everyone knew why Harry was there. That is why the chief house-elf was getting a jump on assigned elf work: just in case something goes wrong with the spell cleaning and causes more problems.  
“Do you only do the kitchen?” Harry asked as he watched the elves busy working on the pots and pans. In the distance lay all the cutlery, serving utensils, cups, and other stuff Harry was not sure of.  
“Oh no. We have to get each common room, dormitories, and the like cleaned properly. Like I said, summer is our busiest time.”  
Harry never knew this aspect of house-elf work. He was not sure if Hermione knew. She only talked about the work house-elves do during the term.  
“On the other side of the castle is the laundry. That is another story. Again, house-elves are busy cleaning out the laundry pots. It never stops, year in and year out. That is house-elf work.”  
“Do you clean the dungeons” Harry asked quickly.  
“Of course.”  
“Do you go lower?”  
“There is nothing below the dungeons.”  
“Are you sure? Elves have been here since the beginning of Hogwarts.” Harry was remembering the cleanliness of the Chamber of Secrets. Not so the pipes leading up to the actual chamber.  
“Of course I am sure.” The chief house-elf paused, rubbed his chin, and then looked back at Harry with a searching look. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh no Mr. Potter. We know nothing about the Chamber of Secrets. The place you rediscovered. Not a place for Hogwarts house-elves. And we are not interested in a basilisk alive or dead!” Then in an adamant voice chief house-elf added, “We don’t rent pigs or chase basilisks. I hope that is clear Mr. Potter!”  
“Perfectly. Glad to know where you stand.”  
“Good,” Said the chief house-elf. “With that out of the way, I was wondering if you have ever heard the stories that the other three founding members had their own Chamber of Secrets?”  
Harry slowly shook his head.  
“What is good for the goose is good for the gander is how we heard it down through elf legends. Might be all hogwash, then again the Chamber of Secrets was also hogwash for hundreds of years until Tom and you come popping up.”  
Harry wanted to tell the chief house-elf he was wrong. Then his last sentence hit home. No one believed there was such a thing as the Chamber of Secrets. Even Harry did not believe in it until he actually found the entrance.  
“All I know is this,” chief house-elf said. “Hogwarts has many secrets and does not give them up lightly. You can hunt high and low and unless the building wants to help you, you will never get anywhere. For example, us house-elves know you used to wander the corridors, knew you used the Room of Requirements and knew you had the Marauder’s Map. Now you know the Marauder’s Map does not show house-elves, only wizards. That is a very interesting fact. From the Beginning we have drifted apart, different abilities, skills and distrust. So now there is not much discussions or cross assistance. Hopefully, with you as a Professor here at Hogwarts, things can slowly change.”  
“How long have you been here?”  
The chief house-elf smiled a bit then said, “An awful long time. Started even younger than young Gossiter. Us house-elves live long through service as service is good for us. Wizards do not live as long. That is why we can out wait wizards.”  
“And you are happy here?”  
“Hogwarts is a good place to be. Has stability and regularity. Two qualities us house-elves appreciate and gravitate to. That is why a Hogwarts position is a position sought after. Professor Dumbledore had a hundred, or so, good house-elves applying for every Hogwarts position when it fell open. Every house-elf trusted and had utmost confidence in Dumbledore. Hopefully Professor McGonagall will carry on the traditions.”  
Harry stood up to stretch and think. Harry felt being on your feet helped the brain assimilate all the information just thrown at it. And he had learned an awful lot in the past few minutes. “Do you believe the stories of there being four different Chambers of Secrets?”  
“I was sure there was nothing below the dungeons as us house-elves had been down there so many times. Then you came along and proved everyone wrong: the chamber is really there. So why not the other three?”  
Harry felt overwhelmed as he thought of more stuff down below the castle. This castle, the castle he thought he knew, in reality he knew nothing.  
“I better be going.” Harry said thoughtfully.  
“Oh, which room are you going to use?”  
“Professor Snape’s old rooms.”  
“Of course. That should suit you. Just remember to check the labels on the bottles. He has been known to mix up the labels to trap the uninitiated. Before you came along he caught two students that way. They had to go to St. Mungo’s as he forgot exactly was in the bottles they stole. Nasty business stealing from professors: never happened again.”  
With that, Harry reached out and shook the hand of the chief house-elf. “Glad we had this chat.”  
“Me to. I am sure your addition to the faculty will be lauded as a major achievement and bring more honor to Hogwarts.” Harry nodded as he waved and walked out of the kitchen and upstairs.  
Harry went to the Gryffindor tower to unpack before strolling off to have a look at Professor Shape’s office, the one he was rather familiar with.  
Harry still had mixed up feelings about Professor Snape. Yes he was rotten to the core, Yes he abused his position, and Yes Harry loathed the man. Yes, he was happy he was dead. Then on the other hand he was Dumbledore’s right-hand man. Dumbledore trusted him implicitly. Professor Snape executed his assignments with diligence and exactness. And, when he was a student at Hogwarts, his choices were not the best. Likewise, Harry had not made the best choice when one came along.  
Harry opened the door and stepped in to the ever present gloom that was Professor Snape’s office. The first thing Harry did was to flick his wand at the fireplace and get a good fire going. The fire made Harry smile as the warmth and light chased away the gloom that seemed to hang about Professor Snape’s office like cobwebs to an unkempt room. Harry paused to think about what he did and the sudden change it brought about. The light chased away the darkness. Isn’t that the same as truth chasing away lies? Or happiness chasing away gloom. Or not. Just a passing thought running through Harry’s head as he looked about and used his wand to turn up the lamps about the walls. Now the room almost seemed cheery.  
Remembering what the chief house-elf said Harry wandered about the office peering into the glass jars and looking at their labels. Most of which he didn’t have a clue what the stuff did or was for. Of course toad legs and apricot eyes were easy to spot as were letunium, envellium and juice of timmions while the rest remained a mystery.  
Then Harry eased over to the desk. The solid dark oak desk from which swift punishment was administered. He ran his fingers along the edge of the desk as he slipped into the chair.  
The very second he sat down a sudden defining din shook Harry to the very core. The noise was Snape bellowing away and there at the other end of the office was Snape striding directly toward Harry. A petrified Harry was stuck in the chair. Professor Snape was dead: he saw it happen. In an instant Harry stood up pulled out his wand and yelled Riddikulus! It was a simple boggart.  
No one had said anything about traps and the like in Professor Snape’s office. Still shaking and still with wand in hand, Harry looked carefully about the well-lighted room. From now on Harry planned on being ready. Slowly Harry relaxed enough to sit down and put his wand away. Assuming the room to have more traps Harry was wondering if it was a good idea to use Professor Snape’s office at all.  
Suddenly the fire place started to grow larger and larger and the fire got brighter and brighter. Harry pulled out his wand and stepped forward to attack. The giant head of a basilisk suddenly appeared from the depths of the flames. It came directly at Harry. Harry slammed his eyes shut and pointed his wand at the noise. Since he was attacking Harry ran at the basilisk as fast as he could. Suddenly he wasn’t carrying a wand, he had the sward of Gryffindor in his hand that plunged deep into another boggart.  
Seriously shaking Harry did not sit down, rather he leaned against the desk in a cold sweat. This was not what he was expecting. Since everything happens in three’s Harry was ready. Well almost. Actually Harry forgot to look up. The ceiling was gone, the sky was dark and the calls of the flying terrapins could clearly be heard. Terrapins were known to attack in packs. A closer noise was that of swooping hagards. Boggart or no boggart Harry was not willing to wait and find out if they were real or not. Magical creatures can have their own magical powers and Harry’s nerves were gangling loudly right about now. Out came the wand and Harry started firing hexes, spells, charms and several serious incantations. The ceiling reappeared and everything else disappeared. Harry didn’t care if it was boggarts or not. Harry’s head was going every which way to make sure he was ready for the next event. This was not what he expected. Then again it was Professor Snape’s office.  
Harry retreated back to the desk once again. At least leaning against it had the advantage of being on your feet. He was wondering if there were more to come.  
Then it was Professor Snape’s voice: right behind Harry. “Well Mr. Potter, it would seem you have survived.”  
Harry jumped off the table by several yards, turned around and there was Professor Snape’s head dead center of the desk. Of course it was not a real head as it was made up of smoke and vapors. Still good enough to give anyone the heebeegebes.  
The talking head said, “Well Potter I see we are parting company for a long while. I can assure you it has not been a pleasure teaching you the menial aspects of potions. And yes, you mother was much better and could have gone on to greater things: but she did not. She chose to stay home and be a mother to you.  
“Despite your current situation I do not have time to pass the time in idle chit chat. Business then. My wand: I assume you have found it. My wand has been infused with a certain potion made with a few of your hairs. It will obey your every commend as if by my own hand. As great as Ollivander claims to be, there are some of us who know a little bit more about wands.  
“Potion labels are all correct. Sadly it will be a while before you will understand what they are and what they are used for. That is if you are interested in potions. And yes there are still a few Quidditch potions out there that has no known antidote. That is, if you believe winning is all important. What they do I shall let you discover. Better not take the horse to water too many times.  
“And finally, rather than have them destroyed, there are your mother’s parchments. She did have an eloquent way with words. You are her legal heir they rightfully belong to you. I will ask your indulgence as we were very young.  
“Oh yes, it would be unconscionable of me to leave before warning you to tread lightly when using my potions book. I am the still the Half Blood Prince, and don’t you ever forget it!”  
Snape’s head blew away and a pile of parchments took its place on the desk. Harry flopped into the chair and looked at the parchments. Carefully he separated the rolls and noted that each roll was made up of several parchments. About each roll was a red ribbon and to the ribbon was a date. Care and dedication were obvious.  
Subconsciously Harry looked into the mirror of Erised and saw his mother standing there, smiling proudly at her son.  
Feeling overwhelmed Harry gathered up the parchments and headed up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. He thought it would be a better place to sit and read through his mother’s old correspondence between herself and Professor Snape.  
That night Harry wrote Ginny a long letter telling her what happened. He felt better about including Ginny in his life, even if it was only through owl mail.


	7. Chapter 7

Thursday May 7, 1998

 

If you are first you are first.   
If you are second you are nothing.   
If you are the Chudley Cannons,   
you are still nothing. 

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

The day had started normally enough with breakfast made by Gossiter under the supervision of Kreacher. A breakfast of eggs, bacon and tomatoes all fried with a knob of butter and two slices of buttered toast. “The breakfast of champions,” Harry called it as he never had a good breakfast all the while he was living with the Dursley’s.  
Kreacher handed Master Potter a note from Filch. Harry was not used to receiving notes. It simply stated that there were two boxes for Harry waiting in Professor Snape’s office.  
After a good breakfast, and feeling well fortified Harry said to Kreacher, “Kreacher, I think I’m going to need my other wand today.”  
“Two wands on a day when school is out?”  
“I think it might be best.”  
“Of course Master Harry.” With that Kreacher handed over a very clean wand, the wand Harry won from Draco. The look on Kreacher’s face said it all. “Who would need two wands on a quiet day like today?”   
Even though Harry had Professor Snape’s wand, he was not comfortable putting his trust in it. That is why he reverted to a known wand of a known provenance.   
Kreacher turned to Gossiter and said, “Get Master’s clothes out and ready. Then take the tray back to the kitchen. Today is an important day for Master.”  
Harry smiled and said, “Every day is a good day, these days.” And Kreacher nodded in agreement. Working for Master Potter has been a joy: once over the rocky start. Subconsciously Kreacher reached up and touched Regulus Black’s locket. The loyalty he had for the Black family had been replaced by an understanding of how good people could be, one to another, and at such a little price.   
After breakfast, dressed, Harry headed to Professor Snap’s office. Even though it had been assigned to him, the office would always remain Professor Snap’s office.  
The two boxes were sitting in the corner just as Mr. Filtch had said they would be. Harry looked at them and noticed the return address was Dudley Dursley, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry muttered to himself, “Big D, did you really do this?”  
Harry hefted the first box onto the desk and found a knife in the drawer. With a few deft strokes he slit through Dudley’s careful work. Once opened Harry could see all his old school textbooks neatly packed away, On top of the books was a note from Dudley. It read,

Dear Harry:

I thought you might want to have these books back as they are yours and might come in handy. Mother said not to bother and dad was for tossing them in the bin. I said no and had to pry the school address out of mum. She is not too happy I am writing to ‘that’ place.  
I sat my ‘A’ levels and now awaiting the results. I’m hoping to get accepted to Exeter University to study mechanical engineering. I sort of take after dad like that.  
Hope you won’t forget us and come by if you are in the area. One last thing, your room has been taken over by mum as she has turned it into a sewing room. Never seen her sew before, not sure if she knows how to. Anyway, that’s how it is.

Your cousin

Dudley.

Harry couldn’t understand Dudley doing this. They never got along except once and that was when it was time for Harry to leave the house for the last time. That one time Dudley almost acted like a real human being. Maybe the Death Eater attack had knocked some sense into him. Maybe there was hope for Dudley… maybe.  
Harry opened the second box and found the remainder of his text books including the Monster Book on Monsters. Harry smiled to himself and wondered how Big D handled that book without getting his fingers ripped off.  
At the bottom of the second box was his most prized book, the heavily annotated copy of Advanced Potion-Making that came from the Half Blood Prince. Harry hefted it, turned it over, and thought long and hard about Professor Snape. That was the one thing that still irritated him about Dumbledore, not knowing the whole picture. Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom only gave him that sliver necessary to accomplish the task. He never trusted Harry with it all. Being older Harry could see the wisdom in this approach, even though he could see it, it didn’t mean he liked it. And most of all Harry could now look back and see how Dumbledore had tried time and time again to temper Harry’s animosity against Professor Snape. And now Harry could see how he was blinded by Professor Snape’s actions while ignoring Dumbledore’s words.  
“Why is growing up so difficult?” Harry muttered rhetorically to no one in particular. He flipped open the book and ran his hand over the page. As he did so he wondered about Professor Snape and his upbringing. Another lost soul finding comfort, a purpose, and reason once at Hogwarts. Just like Tom and just like himself. The key ingredient being Hogwarts. Not the building, not the grounds, not even the professors, it must be a mixture of all that, including the students and a whole lot more. Slowly Harry was seeing the goal of the founding four slowly unfold. This was their goal as much as teaching the young wizards how to do magic. They wanted the students to find a home and a purpose.  
Then Harry smiled to himself. Maybe he was reading too much into the past events. Maybe he was being a little bit to fanciful for his own boots. Maybe he would like to rewrite history and be nicer to Professor Snape. That is when Harry really had to think. Would he do it differently? Really would he? And Harry had to conclude he would not. Even if he could change, Professor Snape was already set against Harry because of what Harry’s father did. That was something outside of Harry’s control. In the end it all seems to roll around free agency: the right to choose which is given to everyone at the Beginning.  
That was when the light went off in Harry’s head. “The Beginning.” Harry said in earnest and went back to the first box. Quickly he went through the books until he found his lightly used A history of Magic. Harry grabbed the book, cleared a spot, sat down, and started at page one. After about two hours of solid reading Harry knew he had to go to the library for additional resources. As good as A history of Magic was, there were questions coming to Harry that the book did not cover to the depth that he wanted.  
Since school was out Harry had resumed his exploration of the castle and was still amazed that there were places he still had never been to before. His walk to the library was accompanied by a very bored Nearly Headless Nick.  
“Summer is such a bore about here.” Nick said, “Even with you here, it is still not the same a term time. So much fun especially with the little rotten first years. They are so scared of everybody and everything.   
“Not you. What do you do? All you do is pot off Moldy Voldy!” Nick quickly added, “You do realize I was betting on you winning all along. I mean, us Gryffindor’s must stick together. The Bloody Baron was betting against you killing Voldy. Actually he was hoping you would get killed and join us. Typical Baron: all action with no proper thought.”  
“If you are dead, how can you bet?” Harry posed to Nick.  
“Don’t be silly, we don’t have any money as such. We know where money is, money we had when we were alive. Some of us have been careful not to gamble it away. Other than gamble, what use do we have for money?”  
“Good point.” Harry said.  
“Now, since you are not dead, and since you are interested in Miss. Weasley, a small wedding present might be in order.”  
“You would do that?”  
“Why, of course. You are still very famous and well known and respected and have some influence and a new teacher here at Hogwarts…”  
“Nick, the answer is still no. I can’t put in a good word for you to join the headless hunt. We’ve tried once before and it was rejected. Since you are not totally chopped, you can’t go to the hunt. Sorry, that’s how things are.”  
“No need to be so blunt about it…”  
Harry cut in with, “I’m not blunt: the axe was!”   
“Sometimes I find the Baron of more interest than lesser mortals.” And with that Nick went sailing off through the wall.  
It took Harry a while to locate the history section of the library as it was not a section he had been in before. He found a quiet corner and flopped into a soft chair and was quickly back into his copy of A history of Magic. He was amazed how vast Bathilda’s grasp on history was and how she spun seemingly unrelated tit-bits into a cohesive presentation that was easy to grasp and understand. Aside from the text Bathilda had added copulas foot notes to help the reader grasp the finer points of history. Since Harry started at the beginning he was enthralled about the big meeting before the Beginning of all things. That is why he kept popping up looking for the books Bathilda referenced in her book. He found several good books that concentrated on the big meeting. All the books say the same thing that everyone was there. Everyone had a chance to voice their opinion of the plan and everyone voted for or against the plan.  
It took a while to find out who was everyone. It seems that everyone was broken down into their usual groups of humans, trolls, giants, Merpeople, centaurs, elves, goblins, etc., Each group had to step forward to vote for or against the plan.  
Then Bathilda explained that we can not remember the big meeting as this life is a test, a test without a crib sheet. And a key ingredient of that test is the right to choose.  
There was a slight noise off to Harry’s right that caught his attention. There shouldn’t be anyone in the library. Carefully Harry slipped out of his chair, pulled out his wand and started toward the end of the book shelves. The noise was very slight and only bothered Harry because of the quietness in the school.  
Harry reached the end of the shelves and bent low to peek around the corner. About three rows away were two ghosts in deep discussion. Seeing it was only ghosts Harry stood up and marched around. It was the Bloody Baron and Helena Ravenclaw.   
The Bloody Baron jumped to his feet and blustered away with, “Professor Potter, I was unaware of your presence here in the library. I was having a little tête–à–tête with Miss. Ravenclaw.”  
“So I see,” Harry said as walked towards the pair. Then he added, “I have to thank Miss. Ravenclaw for trusting me the other day. Her information was fantastic and helped me defeat Tom Riddle. Again, thanks!”  
“Thank you for your kind words,” Helena Ravenclaw said, “You reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago and failed to trust. Even we ghosts are never too old to learn that friendships, especially old friendships, are worth their weight in gold.”   
“Just a pity you are now a professor,” the Baron said, “Otherwise I should chase you about the dungeons for bothering Miss. Ravenclaw like that. I mean, you a Gryffindor and her a Ravenclaw.”  
Helena gently put her hand on the Baron’s arm and said, “All for the greater good of Hogwarts.”  
“Humm, may be, but could have been done in a better way.”  
“Would you rather have Voldemort in charge?” asked Harry?  
“No, course not!” the Baron replied. “Didn’t trust the worm when he was here: nothing changed since then.”  
Curiously Harry asked, “Why didn’t you trust him back then?”  
“Always looking for an edge. Like he wanted to get ahead, ahead at any cost and by any means. Oh he was good and very cleaver. So fast you could never pin anything on him. Like he had eyes at the back of his head. All of us ghosts were weary of him as he even tried playing us off against each other. We soon found out his game.”  
“But you’re the Slytherin ghost?”  
“So? Doesn’t mean I have to like all the people in the house… does it? Salazar Slytherin had class, panache, a certain suave way of doing things. Riddle was rude, rough, raffish, full of rancor, ridiculously self-centered and as subtle as a snake. He could even sweet talk Eve into taking an apple when she knew it was forbidden upon pain of death. Is there anything else you would like to know?”  
“Ahhh… oh yes, what about Harveture?”  
“Oh that. Stupid wizard idea thought up by some numskull ages ago. Never did it myself…” the Baron stopped in mid sentence and looked longingly at Miss. Ravenclaw. “Would have gone to the very depths of hell if asked. Climbed the highest mountain if required. Sung every soliloquy Shakespeare ever penned if needed, and die a thousand times if mandatory.” Then realizing Harry was still there, the Baron gave a cough, turned to face Harry, then pointedly said, “Do it or else live with the regrets of a damned soul.”   
“Hummm, yes… thank you Baron, and you as well, Miss. Ravenclaw. Most helpful. Think I’ll go and get a snack. Feeling peckish about now. You two stay and finish what you were talking about. Take your time… no rush.” And with that Harry made a fast exit. Once clear he slowed down to walk carefully back to the Gryffindor tower. He preferred the tower to his professor rooms as the tower contained good memories.  
The book he found in the library was a simple book titled, Harveture for Dummies. He thought it fitted him to a tee.   
Harry had just settled down to start reading when the door opened and in came Professor McGonagall. “There you are Professor Potter.” She started with. “I am interested in your progress with the spells? They seem to be growing in strength.”  
Harry had not given them one thought as he was too engrossed in Ginny and Harveture. “Ah… I’m working on it.”  
“Professor,” Professor McGonagall said in a conciliatory tone. She knew his mind was on other things. “I am relying on you to have it all done before summer recess officially starts on July 16th. After that this place is like a ghost town. All the staff and professors will be gone. Only the house-elves remain doing their routine cleaning will be here. And they won’t have time to help you.”  
July 16th was when term officially ended and the six weeks holiday begins and everyone is gone somewhere. To home: to family: to friends: to foreign shores to explore: or walks on Dartmoor, Exmore or Bodmin Moor.  
Harry closed the book and placed it on the desk. He knew he had work to do. Harveture could wait: the spells could not. “I’m on it.” Harry said as he followed Professor McGonagall out of the tower.  
As they left the tower, Professor McGonagall said, “Oh yes, we have finally removed the last spells from the Owlery. It was a bit of a challenge until Hagrid came up with an idea. Now we can send and receive mail. Makes life so much better. Oh yes,” she said in a much softer tine, “You might want to consider another owl. They are the king of pets no matter what Miss Granger might say.”  
Harry opened and then closed his mouth. He had not gotten over Hedwig’s sudden death. His initial reaction was one of betrayal. How could he get a ‘replacement?’ He let the suggestion pass… for now. Professor McGonagall headed back to her office leaving Harry to think about the spells.  
Rather than go up the stairs to the walls Harry headed toward a specific bathroom: the one Moaning Myrtle used. He was still thinking about the Parseltongue words he heard. The only place that came to mind was deep down below the foundations of Hogwarts.  
Even though Harry knew the bathroom would be empty, he still opened the door slowly and yelled out, “Any one there?”  
“You again!” Moaning Myrtle said as she popped through the stall door. “I thought you were gone. I mean everyone else is. No one asks us ghosts to go on holiday with them. Happy to leave us and not happy to see us; unless you are a house ghost. Which I’m not. Am I?”  
Harry quickly looked about and realized Myrtle was addressing him. Quickly he said, “Not me either.”  
“Not you either what?”  
“What?” Said Harry.  
“See, you are just the same. Making fun of me ‘cause I’m not alive. Doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, like everyone else.”  
Harry wanted to say, “You mean like everyone else who is dead.” But managed to hold his mouth shut tight. What he did say was, “What’s stopping you going on holiday?”  
Myrtle stopped moaning for a moment as she thought. She stopped thinking with a baleful, “No one ever asked me!”  
Then Harry had a bright idea, “If I asked you to come visit my relatives, would you come?”  
“Why?” Myrtle asked very carefully.  
“Because it might be fun.”  
“Are you making fun of me?”  
“No,” Harry carefully said. “I was thinking it would give you a reason to get out of here. Just you and me.”  
“And how would I get there? Ghosts can’t apparate.”  
“Can you fly?”  
“By broom or by that stinking car in the forest?”  
“Floo power?”  
“Don’t know. Never tired it. I died before I was allowed to try.” And with that Myrtle burst into tears knowing she was now stuck inside the soon to be empty castle over the summer holidays. “I’m going to stay here every summer just because I can. Stay here and wait for some first year to walk in so I can go ‘Boo!’ and make him cry. That’s what I do best.”  
“Scare people?”  
“Why not? No one ever comes in to talk.”  
“We are talking.”  
“Not really. We are chatting.”  
“What’s the difference?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. Why are you asking me hard questions? Like the first time you came here asking how I died. You were never interested in how I lived, or what I did, or where I came from, or my sad parents, or…”  
“I get the picture. I do. Just that back then I was in a bit of a hurry.”  
“Hurry Harry? Is that your real name? Harry in a hurry to do what? I thought the world was saved by Harry. So what are you hurrying for? Take a toilet seat so we can talk.”  
“Ahhh… toilet seats aren’t for talking, they are for using.”  
“Not for me, I’m dead… or did you forget?”  
“Not me.” Harry said, “That is why I’m asking you to come with me to visit my relatives this summer.”  
“But you haven’t said how.”  
“I’m working on it.” Harry said.  
“Well work on it faster, before the beginning of September.”  
“Okay…”  
“Then why are you here?”  
“Passing through.”  
“Ohhh… you mean you want to go back down there?”  
“Yep. Things to do.”  
“Can I come along? Never done anything like that.”  
“You ever gone down there?”  
“No, never. Just hung about the bathrooms. That keep me busy pretty much all the time.”  
“Will you have time to come along with me?”  
“Maybe I’d better think about it. I mean to say, leaving here just to go there doesn’t have much appeal. What are you going to do down there?”  
“Have a look.”  
“At what?”  
“Don’t know. That is why I’m going.”  
“To have a look.”  
“Yep, just to have a look.”  
“If that’s all, then I’m not interested. Looking at something you don’t know about sounds boring. Staying here knowing what is going on here sounds more interesting… if you ask me.”  
Feeling some relief Harry said, “Fine, you stay here and I’ll go there. And when I get back I’ll tell you if there is something there or not.”   
“Okay, you do that. But don’t be surprised if I’m gone. I am a busy person with lots to do!”  
Harry said, “Okay,” to Moaning Myrtle as he stood in front of the tap that never worked. He hissed, “Open up.” He still had the Parseltongue knack as the tap glowed a bright white and began to spin. Then the sink began to move and then disappeared revealing the pipe in the ground.  
Rather than falling down shafts, clambering over fallen rocks, slimy pathways, and getting lost, Harry had brought along his Cleansweep. This way he could cover more ground.  
With the entrance opened to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry pulled out his wand and clipped it in the notch at the top of the broom. The notch is provided only on the better quality brooms. Once the wand is clipped into place the pair creates an incredibly powerful cruciform for searchers.  
With the cruciform Harry could now create a three dimensional map as he explored the chamber and its secrets. That is if there are any secrets left after Tom Riddle had done his plundering.  
The cruciform also can be used as a wizard version of a metal detector as there are many stories of buried wizard bits and bobs strewn through out time and in all sorts of odd places. Each item supposedly very powerful and very hard to find. That is why there is a group of wizards, called Bona Vacantias or just BV’s, who spend their entire life in the search and discovery of their supposed pots of lost magical gold. Every now and again a find is discovered in some corner of some field in England. The newspapers are full of interesting facts that if read properly provide a lot of words about something surprisingly small, insignificant with very little in the way of magical power and importance. What this group usually found was muggle coins and other muggle trivia from the Norsemen and Viking era that are baubles to wizards.  
Of particular interest to wizards has been the enduring story of Arthur and the knights of the round table searching for the Holy Grail. Many a wizard has spent his life in Cornwall wandering about all the Arthurian sites in hot pursuit of the Holy Grail. The assumption being Sir Lancelot found it but lost it in the last great battle. Then there were several families, hardened by time, who claimed the Holy Grail as belonging to them as they had stories past down their family line each clearly stating they were the rightful heirs.  
Since flying brooms about in broad daylight had long been stopped all searching was done at night and in particular at the days about a new moon. Some areas were getting so much attention that the Ministry of Magic was thinking about introducing one way traffic for wizards of brooms to lower the number of collisions.   
Harry was familiar with the theory of flying and mapping at the same time, just never did it. Once the Chamber if Secrets entrance was opened, he mounted his broom, took off and zoomed down the tunnel at an alarming rate of speed. The scream that Moaning Myrtle uttered was quickly lost as Harry descended into the very foundations of Hogwarts.  
As Harry zoomed downward he yelled, “Luminoso” and two powerful lights emanated from each end of his wand. The lights powered away the doom and gloom of the pipe and when he reached the bottom and the rock fall, they illuminated the area and clearly showed how closely he came to being crushed on his first and last visit to this part of Hogwarts.  
Slowly he flew over the remains of the slimy snake skin wondering how long it would survive before crumbling into dust. With a shiver Harry rose and flew down the larger pipe, round the corner and came face to face with the solid wall with two intertwining snakes carved into it. Their emerald eyes gleaming brightly in the powerful lights. Harry was curious about the carvings and flew right up to them so he could run his hand over them. As he ran his fingers up and down the detailed engravings they had an odd feel, a feel he could not put a finger on… just yet.   
Harry moved a few feet back and said “Open,” in Parseltongue. The solid looking wall parted into two with each part sliding quietly aside. Still on his Cleansweep Harry rode through the very long and dimly lit chamber, passing the tall columns one by one. After passing a few columns Harry decided to have a closer look at one of the columns and immediately noticed all the eye sockets of all the carved snakes were empty. As if someone had pried all the gems out of carvings. Odd, very odd.   
Once Harry drew level with the last pair of pillars the powerful lights pierced every nook and cranny as Harry took a slow tour of the chamber. As he did so the thought entered his mind, “Why is it so big?” He flew all the way up and down the statue of Salazar Slytherin, trying to remember every detail as if it was something important to do. Finally he turned round and flew over the remains of the basilisk. The bones had been picked clean, Harry guessed by all the little rodents that the snake had been feeding on for so many years. Maybe they were a little fatter because of the good pickings the snake made. Even though the basilisk technically won the battle and technically had killed Harry, Harry felt sorry it had to die. It wasn’t the snake’s fault it was born to live a life, deep under Hogwarts, until Tom came along and changed things.  
Harry stayed a healthy distance away from the remaining fangs. He had gotten too close once before. He noted the missing fangs that Ron and Hermione took and was impressed by their resourcefulness and courage coming into the chamber and use a fang to destroy Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.  
That pretty much summed up Harry’s knowledge of the chamber… but was that all? He flew into the middle of the chamber, got off his Cleansweep and unclipped his wand. That immediately extinguished the lights from each end of the wand leaving him in the natural dull green light. Reaching into his moleskin pouch and pulled out his second wand, Draco’s wand.  
With one wand in each hand he pointed them up into the darkness. As he pointed them up, he tried to keep a clear mind as there was no spell he knew that covered two wands being used at once. As he cleared his mind one small vision crept in: it was a vision of the door into the Chamber of Secrets. The door with the intertwining snakes.  
It began low. The dust about the chamber began to stir and then move. The dust slowly picked up the pace going round and round in a huge circle with Harry in the middle. As the speed increased, the dust started to rise upward. Once it got to waste height two lights sprouted out of the end of each wand. The light got bigger, longer, and brighter. Slowly the lights turned into a bright, white snake with shinny emerald eyes and flickering forked tongues.   
The inexplicable fascination of watching two snakes appearing at the end of his two wands suddenly turned to abject fear. It was then Harry realized he was not controlling the two growing and slowly intertwining snakes. It was a power far greater than he had ever experienced.  
The snakes were growing up and up, glowing brighter and brighter, with their emerald eyes swiveling this way and that. Their forked tongues feeling the tension in the air. The fear in the pit of Harry’s stomach was replaced by total horror when he realized he couldn’t let go of the two wands.  
The unseen power was gathering strength and going faster and faster around Harry. The circling dust slowly rose up and up. As it rose up it started to coat the two snakes. It was like they were being created into living, breathing snakes right in front of his eyes. And there was nothing Harry could do about it.  
The unseen power was slowly overwhelming Harry. As hard as he tried he could not let go while the strength he had was slowly being drained out of him. It was as if the power was literally crushing him to death and there was no way out except to accept his fate and die.  
As the snakes got larger and larger, Harry was getting weaker and weaker. Finally he could not stand so he fell to his knees. His arms were feeling so heavy he wanted to put them down: but couldn’t. Harry slowly fell over on to his back with his arms, below the elbow still pointing upwards. His eyelids were too heavy to keep open. He closed them knowing there was nothing he could do except die in the Chamber of Secrets where no one would ever find him. What a sad, pathetic and wasteful end.  
There were two loud cracks in rapid succession. The first one being Kreacher suddenly appearing, and the second one of Kreacher blasting the two snakes from the tops of Harry’s two wands.  
The very second the two snakes vanished the floor under Harry disappeared and Harry found himself falling down a large pipe. As he fell he managed to turn around and then jam both wands into the side of the pipe gouging long and deep scars in the pipe. That stopped the fall. He hung there sweating buckets trying to think what had happened. What ever it was, it wasn’t very good.  
“Kreacher, you there?” Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs. Silence returned. “Kreacher, are you there?” he tried again. The silence did not bode well. Harry knew he could hang there until his arms gave out or someone happened to be passing by and rescue him. Both were useless notions. Summoning up his strength Harry chose a third option. He pulled one wand out of the side of the pipe, let his body swing down and then he kicked up and as he did so he yelled out, “My name is Harry Potter and I killed Tom Riddle!” As he did so he plunged the free wand back into the side of the pipe, but higher up. Then Harry pulled out the other wand, he swung down the other way and then he kicked up yelling, “My name is Harry Potter and I killed Tom Riddle!” And again plunged the wand into the side of the pipe, but higher up. Slowly and surely Harry swung from side to side pulling out one wand to put it back in higher up the pipe. His yell of, “My name is Harry Potter and I killed Tom Riddle!”, was the only sound to counter the oppressive silence of the chamber.   
Harry’s progress was slow, painful, difficult and interminable. He could not see the top of the pipe. He did not rest as he was trying to use the swinging momentum to reach further and further up the pipe. After a long time he changed his chant to, “My name is Harry Potter and I killer Lord Voldemort!” The very next swing his wand reached out of the pipe and he plunged it into the floor of the chamber. On his next swing he yelled even louder, “My name is Harry Potter and I killed Lord Voldemort!” and with that he plunged his other wand into the floor of the chamber. Then he pulled himself out of the pipe, pulled out his two wands, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. His arms had been worked beyond pain. He knew he face had been rubbed raw in several places. His chins and feet were battered, bruised and swollen. All Harry could liken it to was being run over by a steamroller.  
When he felt he could, Harry rolled over to have a look at the pipe he fell into. As he rolled he saw a crumpled up Kreacher at the foot of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. Harry tried to get up and fell over, twice. He was physically pushed to his limits. That was when he realized he had his broom. Accio broom. Harry said as loud as his strength would allow. It was enough. The Cleansweep came over and hovered about a foot off the ground. Harry reached up and pulled himself onto it. Once he clipped his wand back into place and the large lights came on he could see Kreacher was in a bad shape.  
“Hang on Kreacher.” Harry said as he zoomed over to the very still body of his house-elf. Harry fell off his broom next to Kreacher so he could examine him. At least Kreacher wasn’t dead as Harry could see the rise and fall of Kreacher’s breathing. Knowing he had to get Kreacher to hospital he straightened Kreacher as best he could, then rolled onto the floor beside him. Next he pulled Kreacher onto his back and then rolled onto the broom. Once on Harry tilted back the broom so it could take the strain of carrying the two of them and to make sure he could hold Kreacher on his back. Then carefully he progressed out of the Chamber of Secrets, up the pipes and into the bathroom. As he passed into the bathroom he said, “Close” in Parseltongue. He picked up the pace over to the hospital wing and placed Kreacher in one bed and was off to find Madam Pomfrey. Harry hoped she was in the staff lounge drinking her milk and dunking Dark Chocolate Digestives of which she was rather partial to.   
When Harry burst into the lounge Madam Pomfrey gave a rather loud scream accompanied by the glass of milk flying across the over stuffed arm chairs about the hearth. “Kreacher… Hospital… Quick!” and with that he turned around and sped back to the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey coming along at top speed.  
The sudden rumpus brought life back into the slumbering building. The various house ghosts wandered into the hospital wing and soon left once they knew it was only a common garden house-elf. No excitement there. Professor McGonagall was last to hear as she was buried up to the top of her pointed hat in wizard paperwork.  
Madam Pomfrey cleaned, poked, prodded, cast spells, tucked and un-tucked sheets. Harry stood there looking at her fussing and could see there was nothing externally wrong with Kreacher.  
“He’s old, Harry,” Madam Pomfrey said in a motherly way. “He has seen too much and should have retired years ago. Then he was in the battle here. Just too much for the old elf. Really not much else I can do.”  
“Thank you Madam Pomfrey for everything.”  
“Your turn. Sit down here.” Madam Pomfrey said as she pulled a chair over for Harry to sit in. What ever she was using it stung Harry’s face.  
“Owe!” He fussed.  
“Don’t you fuss. You will heal just fine. You are young and strong. Not so your house-elf. Be nice to him and let him rest.”  
Harry was about to say something back then realized she was right. Maybe that is why Kreacher had called in Gossiter for help.  
“Accio Gossiter.” Harry commended. The house-elf suddenly appeared looking very unsure of himself. He looked quickly at Kreacher, then ran over to hold his friend and mentor’s hand and weep.   
In a shaky voice young Gossiter asked, “Will he be okay?”  
Madam Pomfrey reiterated her concern, “He’s no spring chicken. Nothing is broken or out of place. I don’t know, just don’t know.”  
That was not what Gossiter wanted to hear. “He has to get better… he has to.” Then he turned to Madam Pomfrey and said, “Please look after him. He’s all the family I have left.” Then he added in a small voice, “The rest of my family died in the battle.”   
“I’ll do my best,” Madam Pomfrey said pulling out a huge handkerchief to blow her nose with. “Just that he’s so old.”  
When Madam Pomfrey left and it was Harry and Gossiter watching over the resting Kreacher, Harry asked, “What happened?”  
“It was you, Master Potter. It was you that ‘what happened.’ You asked for your second wand. Mister Kreacher said never before has a wizard needed two wands. Not even the great Dumbledore ever used two wands. Mister Kreacher was deeply concerned that you were in grave peril and having to fight your way out. So he told me to carefully follow you and report back. Once you entered the chamber I knew grave peril was about. Mister Kreacher has told me stories about the chamber. And since you are a Gryffindor and the chamber is a Slytherin I to became deeply concerned and returned and reported. That is when Mister Kreacher appeared in the chamber to stop the snakes.”  
“Where were you all this time?”  
“Mister Kreacher told me to wait outside the chamber and not to enter under any circumstances. I think he was protecting me. So I did not enter. I did as I was told.” Young Gossiter did not sound too happy about doing as he was told.  
Kreacher’s raspy voice was low and dim. “Master Potter, are you safe?”  
Both Harry and young Gossiter raced to Kreacher’s bed side. The old house-elf lay still and kept his eyes closed. It was as if he did not have the strength to open them.   
“I’m fine, just fine. How are you?”  
“Time is closing in. I see the relatives gathering. They are faint, but coming; ready to assist me in going forward.”  
“Don’t speak like that!” Wailed young Gossiter. You are all that is left!”  
“Not so,” Kreacher said gently, “You are a house-elf bound to me as I am bound to the noble house of Potter. When I move on, you shall take your rightful place and become the house-elf to Master Potter here and his fine family. That is what house-elves were assigned to do from the Beginning. As it was for me, so it becomes for you.”  
Young Gossiter grabbed one of Kreacher’s and rested his head on it.  
Kreacher continued with, “When the Black brothers were young and innocent there was many a time we would play and explore the pipes down there. Those were good days without a care in the world.” Kreacher gave a little shudder then a small cough. Then he picked up the tail, “As you know the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was one of the wealthiest, oldest, and largest pure-blooded wizarding families in Britain. And one of the recorded Sacred Twenty-Eight. When I was young the Black’s had the run of this place. All known to the Black’s from ancient times. While the elders held their meetings in the great hall we would wander off. Orion always cautioned Sirius and Regulus not to go too far. They never listened so Orion always sent me along with the boys.   
“The snake was just a fairy tail told to scare us. We never saw it, never heard it, never believed in it. Just a story. At that time, I suppose it lived in other pipes and never came our way.  
“Then came Tom Riddle. A very curious boy, curious only in the black arts and the blacker the better. He endeared himself to the Black family so long as he got what he wanted and he wanted information. He made sure to visit Walburga Black and flattered the information about the Chamber of Secrets out of her. Sad days indeed Master Potter, sad days.  
“Once I knew you were in the chamber I knew there were powers waiting for any uninformed and uninitiated intruder. Dark powers that consume without a trace. Dark powers that like to play with their pray. Pipes that have no beginning and no end. Pipes that have no bottom. And that is just the beginning of the story.   
“Never has anyone been so bold as you. Never has any wizard carried two wands like you. Never has any wizard tried Serpensortia on two wands as once: except you. Never has any wizard done so much for so many as you. You are a curious wizard.”  
A gentle smile crossed Kreacher’s face. “I see my father, mother and the rest of my family at the foot of the bed. They look so young and happy. Father’s saying it’s time, if I am ready.”  
Still resting quietly, Kreacher said, “Gossiter, the locket, Regulus’ locket it yours. Keep it and remember Master Potter gave it to me. It has been an honor and privilege wearing it. Wear it with pride.  
“Good bye, Master Potter. It has been a privilege serving you.”  
Kreacher raised his arm and said, “I’m coming father, I’m coming.” His arm fell gently back on the bed, his head turned to rest more comfortably on the pillow and Kreacher’s last breath left him.   
Harry put his hand on young Gossiter’s shaking shoulder. Harry knew there is a time to speak and a time to be silent. This was one of the times when it’s best to be silent.  
That evening Harry went to see Bill and Fleur to find out if they would mind if he buried Kreacher next to Dobby. He couldn’t think of anywhere else to bury his faithful house-elf.  
Since they did not mind Harry borrowed the same shovel and got to work. The deep anger of Dobby’s death was replaced with introspection as Harry dug into the ground. Every now and again he would pause and look at Dobby’s simple headstone.   
As he dug he thought that even the greatest of wizards have to pass this way. Death can be cheated, delayed, put off: but never avoided. That is why wizards put so much emphasis in the family. The family is the ticket to the train of happiness that takes you into the next part of the journey of life. Harry sifted the thought. Harry weighed the thought. And the thought felt good, the thought felt true.  
Bill tapped Harry on the shoulder and said, “Take a quick break.” Harry nodded and allowed Bill to take over the digging.   
Harry sat down and Fleur joined him. Quietly she said, “Zis is a good spot. I like it ‘ere. I come to think of my old ‘ouse elf we ‘ad. ‘E was Italian ‘nd spoke French most terrible. ‘E was so good to us so papa kept ‘im. Bill will do good as a papa. ‘E has a good ‘eart and I love ‘im for zat.”  
The door to Shell Cottage opened and out stepped Ginny, Percy and Mrs. Weasley. It was hard to tell who squeezed Harry the most, Ginny or Mrs. Weasley.  
“Bill sent us a message, so we came. Not going to leave you along at a time like this,” Mrs. Weasley said with a voice full of emotion. Then Mrs. Weasley pushed Ginny forward and added, “He’s your boyfriend. Go help him!”  
Percy stood by looking a bit awkward. He was still adjusting to the family thing… business… stuff. “Ah, Harry. A word if you don’t mind.” Percy came over to where Harry and Ginny were. “Ah, the Hogwarts house-elves have, ah, expressed a desire to have a proper service for Kreacher as they feel he was one of their own. They couldn’t do one for Dobby for obvious reasons, but, ah, didn’t want to let a second funeral go with only wizards in attendance.” There was a long pause as Harry never thought any one would want to come to a house-elf funeral: except him and now the Weasley’s. “Ah, Harry… what do you think?”  
“Brilliant. Fantastic. Let them all come. He served the house of Black and now Potter honestly and faithfully. He deserves the best. What do you think Ginny?”  
Ginny was stunned at being asked her opinion. All she could think of was, “Fine, yes, fine.”  
Percy was about to turn away when Harry quickly asked, “How did the Hogwarts house-elves know?”  
“Hogwarts house-elves are the sharpest bunch of elves there are. Who do you think picked them? Dumbledore did!”  
The funeral service was set for 6 pm the next day, allowing time for people to arrive.   
Of late Harry has come to appreciate the circle of life. Living with the Dursley’s he never heard of a relative being born, going to school, getting married, have a family or dying. Like it never happened. And since it never happened in Harry’s first eleven years he was not brought up knowing how to deal with certain feeling.  
The following Hogwarts years weren’t that much better. And then the recent deaths have brought into focus how certain things are best handled inside the family as he has seen the Weasley’s do.  
The death of a house-elf is inconsequential to virtually all wizards outside the family the elf served. The typical notion being, ‘house-elves are born to serve, die, and be replaced’. Harry did not prescribe to that attitude. 

Friday May 8, 1998

Early the next day Narcissa Malfoy sent her house-elf with a card to Harry. The card read, “I would like to pay my respects to Kreacher, my old and faithful house-elf for so many years” to Harry. Once Mrs. Weasley heard that Narcissa Malfoy would be attending she went ballistic threatening hell fire and brimstone on her if she cam within ten miles of the graveside. Fortunately Bill was able to calm his mother down enough to inform her that the house and surrounding grounds belonged to him and his wife and if Narcissa Malfoy wanted to come and pay her respects to her old house-elf, that was fine. Mrs. Weasley took off muttering heavily under breath.  
Harry and Ginny spent the afternoon quietly together walking along the beach. Every now and again Harry would reach down for a flat stone and throw it at the water watching it skip along before disappearing under the water.  
“How do you do that?” Ginny asked.  
“Do what?”  
“Make it jump.”  
“It’s not jumping it’s skipping.”  
“But how do you do it? I mean, it’s just a stone.”  
“Not any stone,” Harry said, “It has to be a flat stone. I’m looking for a good size stone that is flat on one side. Haven’t you done this before?”  
“Never been to the beach… except here with you. Most of our spare time was spent romping about Dartmoor or visiting relatives.”  
“Yeh, you told me about that. The Dursley’s liked one day trips to the seaside. Something close like Brighton. Dudley did it so I followed along. Since he is bigger Dudley could get his stone to skip at least seven times and sometimes as many as nine times. It helped to pass the time until we drove back home.”  
The look of remembering struck Ginny as odd, so she asked, “Do you miss the Dursley’s”  
Harry laughed harshly then added, “No, I don’t miss them or their ways of bashing magic out of me. I feel sad for them living a life of pretend. They seem to be more fake than real. Not like your family. The Dursley’s live a pretend life in a pretend way saying pretend things to each other that makes their pretend life livable. Never did understand how they could do that, but they did. Just hope Dudley gets away before its too late for him.” With that they started to walk back to Shell Cottage to be back before the ceremony started.  
At the appointed hour Harry and the Weasley family, minus Mr. Weasley were gathered at the grave side. Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, Narcissa Malfoy and Griphook were also there.  
When six o’clock arrived the house-elves from Hogwarts had lined both sides of the path from Shell Cottage to the grave site. Each elf had a lit candle. The door to Shell Cottage opened and out stepped a young Gossiter carrying a cushion on which was Regulus’ locket. The minute he stepped out there came a low slow undulating musical sound from the house-elves. It wasn’t unpleasant, it wasn’t sad, if was their way of saying goodbye. Then came the stretcher carrying Kreacher’s body. The small form was carefully and with utmost dignity wrapped in white linen. The stretcher was carried by ten house-elves: five on each side. As the small procession made its progress from Shell Cottage, as it passed an elf, the elf blew out their candle.  
Harry was glad the house-elves wanted a proper burial as it sort of made up for Dobby’s hasty burial.  
The procession moved at a stately pace. Gossiter came around to the head of the grave as the ten elves carried the stretcher over the grave and then lowered the stretcher down until it reached the bottom of the grave. Once done the Hogwarts senior house-elf stepped forward, bowed deeply and said, “We are gathered today to say goodbye to our faithful friend Kreacher. A house-elf par excellence, or could we say, nulli secundus. From the Beginning to this point and then post proelia praemia. To keep it short I will end with ‘requiescan in pace’ Kreacher.”  
There came a strong, “Amen,” from Luna, which didn’t seem out of place. Then each of the wizards stepped forward, bowed their head, and moved on. Griphook did not. Then the ten house-elves set to work filling in the grave in time to the music that had started up again. Their spadework was in perfect harmony with the rising and falling of the music. No one moved while the spadework continued. Once complete Harry went down the line shaking hands with each elf and thanking them for coming and making this such a special sendoff for his house-elf. Then Harry went through all his friends, again thanking them for coming. He saved Narcissa Malfoy and Griphook for last.  
Rather than shake Narcissa’s hand Harry enveloped Narcissa in a generous hug and with sincerity said, “I never got the chance to say thank you. You saved my life.”  
Narcissa quietly replied with, “You gave me my son. I think we are even.”  
“Of course,” Harry said as they broke the hug. Fortunately no one was close enough to hear the conversation. Harry gave a little bow which Narcissa returned with a small curtsey and then was gone in a flash.  
Turning to Griphook, Harry smiled and said, “You are looking good.”  
“I’m good but curious how Godric Gryffindor’s sward seems to be missing… again… from Gringotts.”  
“Humm… the second to last time was when you were running off at full steam swinging that sward about your head. Then, of course, the last time I saw it was at Hogwarts,” nodding towards Neville, “He found it in the sorting hat and used it to kill the snake. Why don’t you ask him?”  
“I did. He said he put the sword and hat back in the headmaster’s office… before you went up the stairs.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Sunday May 10, 1998**

“The problem with too many Quidditch players,  
is that all their brains are in their head.”

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Two days later Harry left the Burrow for Hogwarts. Ginny was not at all happy with Harry coming and going like he was doing. She was expecting him to be firmly fixed to a kitchen chair at the Burrow rather than carrying on cavorting about the place. At least he left in the late evening so they had a good time walking about Dartmoor. On the other side of the coin, Mrs. Weasley was getting concerned about having Harry and Ginny spending too much time together, alone, and unsupervised. That is why when Harry headed back to Hogwarts Mrs. Weasley was not at all sad while Ginny became lethargical and uninterested in the rest of the day.  
Harry slept well in his old bed in the Gryffindor tower. He knew his days of using the Gryffindor tower were numbered. Once school started in September he would be using Professor Snape’s rooms.  
The portrait of Professor Dumbledore hug to the side of the desk in Professor Snape’s old office that Harry was now using as his own. For most of the time Dumbledore was away in his other portraits: how many of which Harry did not know. When he did visit Harry the conversations were more the form of questions and answers as Harry had questions and, he hoped Professor Dumbledore had answers.  
Harry’s first question was, “If you are dead, why can I talk to you here?”  
“Good start Harry. Yes indeed, if I am dead how can I be here in this painting hearing and answering you and giving you the confidence that it truly me and not some dark magic at work.”  
“Yeh, something like that.”  
“Cast your mind back to your second year, the year when Miss. Weasley found a book in her basket. The same book she tried to get rid of and the same book which you found. A book that could answer your questions as though it was alive.  
“Magic can be used for good as well as evil. Sometimes the same spell can be used for both depending on the context into which it is placed. For example, a book could be endowed with power to speak the words on the pages. If the words were a nice story, then you would sit back and enjoy the tail. If the words were a spell, then all hell could be unleashed at a predetermined time.”  
“Can that be done?”  
“Oh yes, Harry. That can and has been done with devastating effect. If was common here at Hogwarts before I arrived. Bits of paper were hidden in well known places that 1st year students would go. Upon opening the paper, the unsuspecting student would read the words and then the trick would happen. The goal was to make the words relate to the trick. Like, ‘the sun rises in the morning’ and then the paper bursts into flames. The ones I found most interesting were the ones for bedtime. A common one was, ‘stand up and see the moon at the window.’ Of course the unsuspecting student would go to the window and look at the moon. That is when his pajamas would become stiff as boards and locked the poor person in place. Of course with effort it was possible to get out of the pajamas: much to the amusement of all.  
“Now, going back to your question. If you have been reading A history of Magic? If you had read it you would know that in the Beginning everyone was endowed with the ability of discernment. If you have been feeding that ability you would know by your feelings if I am telling the truth or not. Sadly Tom did not understand that ability and his feelings were all withered up and basically were non-existent. That is why he used threats, malicious actions and fear to force people to keep him informed.  
“By feeding the ability, discernment will grow and develop until, when you are older, you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.”  
“Free from what?” Harry quickly asked.  
“Free from error.”  
“That’s not an answer, is it?”  
“That is the answer of an old man to a young man. As you grow up you will understand the meaning of that answer. You have patience where Tom did not. You will gain where Tom could not. You will see where Tom was blind. Patience brings the blessings Tom missed because he expected it all at once. That is the folly of youth over the experience of age.  
“And as we talk, you will know by your feelings that I am telling you the truth. If it is a guess, then I will tell you. And as you know, my educated guesses are pretty good: not perfect, just pretty good.”  
“So where are you? Not the you in the picture, you as in your soul?” Posed Harry.  
“Remember our discussion after Lord Voldemort used a killing curse on you, or so he thought.”  
“And we met in Kings Cross?”  
“Yes.”  
“And you said it was my show and I had the ability to choose. Choose to stay or go on.”  
“That’s the one.” Replied Dumbledore  
“And I wasn’t sure if it was real or in my head.”  
“I think we have ascertained which encounter it was. Real or not. Actual or figurative. Or whatever you want to say. By then I had moved on to the next step in my progression. A step, as you well know, all will have to face. Even though I am actually there this portrait holds a faint image of me. It is that image you see and are talking to. I shall forever stay here slowly fading into history and insignificance. One day, as a dusty, old and cracked painting, enough paint will flake off to cause all to freeze into place just like a muggle painting. At that time, the magic is broke and I will never be able to visit that painting. Slowly the other paintings will do the same and we will disappear from memory and only exist in stories whispered from the very dust of Hogwarts.  
Breaking to gloomy spell Dumbledore cast he said in a bright voice, “Since that is in the distant future, I think we have time to talk.”  
“The magic doesn’t last for ever?” Harry quickly asked.  
“Good heavens no. Everything decays, some things faster than others. That decay is only to do with this period of our existence. In the next period time itself will not be needed as we will have all eternity to enjoy.  
Sometimes Harry found Dumbledore hard to follow. He has the annoying ability to flip from the past to the present and then have a quick look at the future. All very interesting but not too applicable to Harry and his up and coming worries. So he asked, “So what about Harveture?”  
“Ah yes, what about Harveture. One of the oldest aspects of wizards and wizardry not created at the dawn of time. However, it was created to help young men not make a fool of themselves by falling head over heals at the first girl that passes by. Harveture was created to force young men to think with their brains for a change.”  
Harry looked dubiously at Dumbledore and asked, “Have you ever fallen in love?”  
“Good gracious me! Do you think I was born looking this old? As a matter of fact, I was considered by some to be rather hansom, in a rugged way. Yes, of course I have fallen in love… several times.”  
“How old were you the first time?”  
“Now that is going back a bit.” Dumbledore sat down, got comfortable as he stretched back into ancient history. “I would have been ten or eleven. Either way I was in my last year at Dingley Dell Infants School. We had a trainee teacher for about two months and she was my first love. She was tall, black boots, black stockings, black leather skirt scandalously short for that time, tight black jumper, long black hair and bright red lips. Oooo every boy in the class was head over heals in love with this goddess. I can still see her when I close my eyes… Us boys would talk about her before, during and after school. While she was our teacher no one stepped out of line as we knew she had eyes at the back of her head. She knew when someone was messing about as that resulted in either chalk or the eraser flying across the classroom with deadly accuracy. She was that good.  
“You know Harry it is through her I really gained a firm appreciation of books. She would read to us a classic muggle book called Moonfleet. She had the knack of stopping just as the action was getting interesting. Feeling very frustrated about her stops and starts I went to the local village and bought the muggle book myself. Good thing to as she left before she finished the book. Between her and Moonfleet I found books to be beguiling, not so much as she was, beguiling none the less.  
“Years later, once I entered the noble profession of teaching our paths crossed from time to time. Harry, there is no substitute for your first love… Once a goddess, always a goddess.  
“And before you ask another question, let me pose one to you… Are all the Hogwarts professors single? Ever thought about that Harry? Where are their other half? Living, dead, home, gone, run away, done a bunk?  
“No I think not. All came through the First Wizard Wars fighting with all they had, sacrificing much, caring little for them selves as they knew the price of failure. Tom made it a special point to destroy the families of those who were against him. Not just the immediate family, no! He would go after the extended family with the intention of wiping their names from every scroll, parchment and book known in the wizarding community. Tom was trying to put the price of defiance so high, no one would think of opposing him. He thought wrong.  
“Each professor paid a very high price, a very high price indeed.”  
Missing what Professor Dumbledore was driving at, Harry asked, “Does that mean you were married?”  
Following Harry’s direction Professor Dumbledore replied assuredly with, “It does Harry, it does indeed.”  
“But it’s not in Rita’s book.”  
“Sadly Miss. Skeeter tends toward the trite, light and more scandalous sections of life. In her haste she misses the real substance of life. To be first to the press she concentrated on my life in this country and failed to follow my footsteps to foreign parts. Tom did not make that mistake. I was blissfully ignorant of his powers and reach. The ‘accident’ caught me off guard and I assumed, like everyone else, that what happened was really an ‘accident.’ Only later did I find Tom’s hand at work.”  
“You were married?”  
“Like I said, I have not been old all my life. Yes I was married with children. Plural, that is. Tom, as you well know, had a long reach. He had his spies, informants and those under an imperius curse. I would assume he had me followed virtually all the time from our last meeting at Hogwarts. Then, bingo, all gone.”  
“You never said anything about your family.”  
“What would be the point? Once you knew Tom was back history was of little use. I was looking forward trying to understand the difference between Deathly Hallows and Horcruxs. Sadly greed got in the way and you were the one to see the difference.  
“So you would know all about my parents… and my grandparents?”  
“I knew them all.” Was all Dumbledore offered.  
“And?” Prodded Harry.  
“You already know the basics of your parents. I’m sure you will find out more. Just like Hagrid, who gave you an excellent photograph album of you and your parents, others will assist you in a similar fashion. Your grandparents will be different. Yes I knew them and yes Tom tracked them down. Once he found he could not use them as leverage he discarded them.”  
“That’s it!”  
“Sadly that was it. Of course I was not there. I pieced the broad outline together from bits of information I gathered along the way.”  
Professor Dumbledore was not trying to be cruel, just honest about the facts. “Sorry for being so blunt, you would find out sooner or later as many others will come out of hiding, again, saying all sorts of fanciful things. Best you hear it first here.”  
“Didn’t know. I mean Neville has a grandmother…”  
“Parents in St. Mungo’s. Three grandparents murdered, only one alive.”  
“The Weasley’s have none…”  
“Natural causes.”  
“The Patel girls have all four…”  
“Not important to Tom.”  
“Cho…”  
“When she dropped you she became safe and nothing happened.”  
“Safe?”  
“Mmm Certain persons in Hogwarts were trying to find out who she was and how important your relationship was. She did the right thing to keep her family safe.”  
“Did she know?”  
“Never asked.”  
“Nor did I..” Harry said as if running out of steam. He found the conversation taxing. So much to learn, sift, file, and ponder over. And he knew there would be more episodes like this now the impending doom of Tom was gone.  
A light bulb went off and Harry quickly asked, “Did your brother know you were married?”  
“Alas no. We were not on good terms and it happened abroad, quickly and quietly. I was going to tell him… then things started to spiral out of control and the war was on. I fear telling him might be like a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans: and you know what a disaster that can result in!”  
“So you never told you own brother?”  
“Not so while alive, and I fear the opportunity while dead might not present itself. So, I suspect it will be no to both. However, if I am found worthy I shall be reunited with my family in the future and that makes bearing the pain tolerable.”  
“Okay, one last question…”  
“Only one?” Professor Dumbledore asked in a gently chiding tone.  
Harry had to smile. Dumbledore knew him very well. “Only one… for the moment. Professor Snape’s potions book. Did you know I would end up with it?  
“One of my better tricks I must admit. I was trying to ensure you would ingratiate yourself with Professor Slughorn. As you will remember he had a memory that proved most useful in filling in key details otherwise missing. I’m afraid Professor Snape was most unhappy parting with what he considered a masterpiece of work. He was devoted to the arts of potion making and, as you read, was far more skillful than most of us professors put together. That is why I had no qualms turning to him in times of need. And before you ask it would not matter which of the two books you selected. Whichever one you picked would have been the right one. We had the two books under a last minute substitution spell.  
“With Professor Snape no longer with us, I suppose you are the correct owner of the book. You can do no better than repeating some of his work with effort being applied as to why his way is far superior to the textbook way.  
“And if I remember correctly, your parents’ house was not really destroyed. I think you would find you parents bits and bobs still there.”  
“Bits and bobs?”  
“The items accrued, collected, acquired by various means whilst wandering the halls of Hogwarts.”  
“I thought the house was destroyed… I saw it.”  
“Harry, how many times have I told you not to accept what you see at face value? Just remember Professor Snape. Tom killed your parents he did not destroy the house. I thought a ‘ruined state’ was as a good way to keep visiting wizards away. I anticipated, one day, you would want to move back home to Godric’s Hollow: assuming you survived Tom. I had not anticipated 12 Grimmauld Place being bequeathed to you. Anyway… all you have to do is walk up the path, put your hand on the doorknocker and say, ‘Blubberworth’ and you will be allowed to enter the house.”  
“You did that?”  
“Those were black days Harry. Tom and his followers were strong and gaining strength. To enhance their stature certain troublesome elements had to be removed. Your parents were certainly troublesome to Tom. That is why he personally went after them and, more importantly, you. Between your parents and you, you were the prize. Remember the prophesy?” Harry nodded as Dumbledore continues with, “Tom got to your parents and you first. I was a slow second. Hagrid and Black were third and fourth respectively.” Dumbledore paused for a moment then said, “This might sound bad, but remember we were in the middle of a live or die fight. Once I saw your parents were dead and you were alive I quickly rearranged the house to resemble an explosion. Then I was off trying to ascertain Tom’s whereabouts. Leaving you alive meant something had happened, exactly what I did not know. That is why Hagrid was called to assist in your rescue.  
“Once you were safe with your in-laws, your parents were honored by a proper burial: it was the least we could do.”  
“So no explosion?”  
Sorry, Harry… nothing as spectacular as that. However, my quick action has kept gawpers at bay. It didn’t turn the place into a shrine. And I think I achieved my goal.  
“Talking about your parents’ funeral. It was well attended by many notable Gryffindor members. Chief was Remus Lupin as Peter Pettigrew had faked his own death and fingered Sirius Black. Challenging days indeed.  
“As you know the church holds a special place in my heart. My family is buried there. Sadly we were never allowed to re-inter my father. Once you die in Azcaban, you stay in Azcaban. No exceptions.”  
“Why weren’t you buried there?”  
“Without father I couldn’t see the point. Aberforth will be buried at Mould-on-the-Wold, as that is where we originated and the bulk of the Dumbledore family is buried. So I thought I’d rather stay at Hogwarts and enjoy the scenery. And, it seems, I have good company. Young Colin Creevey has moved into the neighborhood.  
“And now, Harry, I really do feel it is time for me to stretch my legs and go pay a visit on some of the illustrious people in the paintings dotted about Hogwarts. During my tenure as a professor, and then as headmaster, I neglected my duty to spend time with them. Now I have all the time in the world I am rectifying that neglect.” With that Professor Dumbledore stood up, nodded toward Harry and started walking out of the painting.  
“Bye,” Said Harry.  
“Stay out of trouble Harry!” Said Professor Dumbledore as he left the painting at a good pace. Harry noticed Dumbledore’s withered hand was all healed.  
It was after Professor Dumbledore had left the painting that Harry realized Dumbledore had said nothing of substance about Harveture. This was becoming a recurring theme whenever he asked someone about Harveture.


	9. Chapter 9

**Monday May 11, 1998**

 

A lot of Quidditch is in the mind.  
You must believe you are the best  
and then make sure you are.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Gossiter woke Harry bright and early the next day with a good breakfast of ham, eggs, tomatoes and Marmite soldiers. The Marmite soldiers bothered Harry as he hoped they would not become as famous as his apple crumble.  
Harry had big plans for the day. He was planning to retrace the steps that he and Dumbledore had taken a few days ago. Not to find a Horcrux, it was gone, but to see if he could replicate the magic to get into the cave and find the boat. Harry wanted to do this but couldn’t explain why.  
Then Harry remembered that Regulus Black chose to do this trip with Kreacher. Harry looked at Gossiter and thought for a moment. Why not? Then thought, ‘Why not take Gossiter along. He might be young and inexperienced; then again Harry wasn’t exactly experienced when he faced Professor Quirrell and Tom Riddle face to face.’  
Harry asked Gossiter, “Did Kreacher ever tell you about how we met?”  
“Yes Master. It is the responsibility of the older house-elves to pass on family stories, legends and anything else of importance in their collective memories on to the up and coming elves. These stories are told and retold during the quiet evenings after the days work was done. It’s part of our responsibilities toward to family.”  
“Oh, I didn’t know.”  
“That is not your responsibility,” Gossiter said, “That is our duty.”  
“So you know about Regulus taking Kreacher on a trip and how Regulus died?”  
Gossiter looked downcast and said, “Kreacher never talked about that until after the battle here at Hogwarts. It was a very sad and painful time for him. He did his duty and passed the truth on. Sad days for his young master and him.” Harry thought young Gossiter was absolutely right: sad days indeed.  
Then Harry said, “We need to go back for a quick look.” Gossiter had a horrified look on his face. Harry quickly added, “It’s okay, the locket is gone so no need to drink anything. I mean to look about and that’s all.”  
Gossiter’s face had changed from horror to weary caution. “If master is asking Gossiter to go along, then Gossiter will do so.”  
“Yes, I’d like you co come along. Can you follow me when I apparate?”  
“Elves magic can follow wizards’ magic. Where you go I shall be right behind.”  
“Good,” Harry said with a relieved tone. “Let’s get going down to Hogsmeade and leave from there.”  
Harry apparated with Gossiter standing beside him a split second later. The sharp sea air, the dreary overcast sky, and the keen wind chill made Harry shiver a little. They were standing on the same outcrop of rock that he and Dumbledore had once stood on. The dark relentless sea was pounding below while the formidable cliffs stood behind. The difference between visits being Harry knew what was ahead.  
Gossiter was shaking in the cool air as his thin covering was not sufficient for the elements. Harry whipped out his wand and had a worm cloak for his house-elf. Gossiter smiled and said, “Master gave Gossiter clothing!”  
Harry smiled and said, “You’re always free.”  
Gossiter bowed low saying, “Thank you. Dobby was right, you are a great wizard.”  
Harry basked in the glow of Dobby’s memory for only a split second before almost slipping off the rock. The water spray was higher than last time. “Come on, time to get going. Follow me down.” Harry started to clamber down while Gossiter hopped from rock to rock as if it was nothing.  
“Lumos,” Harry said as he reached the same bolder nearest to the cliff face. Harry steadied himself while studying the rocks for the same fissure.  
Gossiter leaned over his shoulder and peered as well. “We are to go there?” was Gossiter’s simple question.  
“Yep, that’s the place.”  
“Then why not apparate inside?”  
Harry steadied himself, thought for a moment, then said, “Don’t know. Just that’s not how we did it last time.”  
“You swam?”  
“Yep.”  
“You are brave to do that. Elves would apparate.”  
“You can do that?”  
“Yes.”  
“And take me with you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then what are we waiting for.” Harry’s voice carried the relief of not having to take the plunge again.  
“Hold on Master.” Gossiter said as he held out his arm. A second later they were standing in the middle of the large cave. Harry found elf apparating far less demanding than wizard apparating.  
“Lumos,” Harry said again as he held his wand up high. Now he was looking at the same walls as before. He wanted to understand how Dumbledore knew how to interrogate the rocks to know there was a way through the wall and how to do it.  
Harry took a deep breath and then started to walk slowly about the cave, running his fingers over the rock face. He was trying to feel what Dumbledore felt. The problem being he didn’t have Dumbledore’s skills or experience. Even though he was lacking he had to give it a go. The other difference being Harry didn’t know what Dumbledore was muttering while he did his exploration. Regardless, Harry had to try.  
Harry went from one side of the rock fact to the other side. Then back. Then repeated it again, and again. He did it two more times and still felt nothing. While doing it all once more Gossiter asked, “Is Master looking for something?”  
While concentrating on the wall Harry answered with, “Trying to feel what is here.”  
“And what is that?” A curious Gossiter asked.  
“Magic was used here and you are supposed to feel it.”  
“To feel it or know it was here?”  
Harry stopped, looked at Gossiter and asked, “What’s the difference?”  
“I once asked my parents the same question. They said the difference is big. Feeling is using your physical self while knowing is using your non-physical self. Harry gave Gossiter a not too impressed look. So Gossiter added, “Like your crumble. There is something physical to feel as you run your fingers through it. Your non-physical self is like running our fingers close to the cave wall. You can feel the heat being sucked out of your fingers. How the heat is taken away is like non-physical. I hope that helps, Master.”  
“Can you feel it?”  
“Oh yes, I can tell there has been much magic here. Most of it black magic.”  
“How can you know?”  
“That, Master, is hard to say.”  
“Then come over here and explain.” Harry said as he sat on a bolder to take a break from walking all over the cave. Gossiter stood still where he was. A look of worry covered his face to which Harry quickly asked, “What’s the matter?”  
“Elves are not supposed to teach wizards elf ways.”  
“Why not?” Harry said in a surprised voice. “I thought you were my house-elf?”  
“Your freed house-elf.”  
“Yes, my freed house-elf.”  
“Which means I don’t have to obey you.”  
“Yes, that’s right.”  
“So I’m thinking if I help, will I be punished when we go back?”  
“Who would punish you?”  
“Other elves for assisting a wizard.”  
“But I’m Harry Potter, the wizard that helps elves. Friend of Hermione that made loads of clothes for elves.”  
“All very true. But Elf ways are not wizard ways. And I don’t want to do something bad.”  
“Okay,” Harry said reluctantly, “You think about it while I get back to it.” With that Harry stood up, dusted sand from his trousers and walked back to the far side of the cave. He was trying to understand why he could feel the spells still at Hogwarts while not feeling anything here. He let his mind go blank while putting out his hand close to the rock wall. He moved his hand from side to side in a bit of a waving motion. Trying to get as much air over his fingers without causing a breeze to give a false sense of feeling something.  
“No, no! Not like that!” A frustrated Gossiter said. “You look like a big fish in the water. Feel carefully, gently, extend your feelings.”  
“Why didn’t you say so before?” Muttered Harry under his breath as he regrouped and tried again: this time without flowery motions, concentrating on what Dumbledore did. Harry carried on trying and trying and trying. The only time he thought he felt something was when he passed the actual entrance into the lake area. He thought he felt something. Then again, it might have been prior knowledge.  
Then Harry pulled out his wand and carefully moved it in his hand to see if that helped pick up something. Despite his best efforts he got absolutely nothing.  
“Am I still doing it wrong?” Harry asked the exasperated looking Gossiter.  
“You are doing your best: I am sure.” Gossiter ground out.  
Finally Harry had to admit nothing was working. Dejected, but not despondent Harry said, “I don’t think I can do anything else here. Shall we go?”  
A surprised Gossiter replied with, “If you want. We can apparate right out of here and go to…?”  
“Hogsmeade would be fine for me.”  
“Then Hogsmeade it is.”  
Harry gave the rock face one last searching look before holding on to Gossiter’s arm and off they went.  
Upon arrival Harry said, “I’m off to Diagon Ally. Stuff to collect. I shall see you later, and thank you for the tip.” Gossiter looked hard at Harry as if Harry had said the wrong thing. However, nothing registered with Harry so he didn’t worry about it.  
This time Harry used wizarding skills to disapparate and immediately felt the difference. He apparated into the Leaky Cauldron and headed into Diagon Alley. He was here to see Mr. Ollivander in his old wand shop.  
Crowds were thick with families out enjoying the freedom to shop without fear or hindrance. Virtually all the boarded up establishments were open and being well attended. One that caught Harry’s eye was Bona-Vista Travel. One the glass it read, “Julian and Sandy, Travel Experts to the Discerning Wizard Community.” The line out the door seemed unusually long. Harry was guessing travel was now back in vogue.  
Finally Harry found the quiet wand shop. Harry smiled to himself as he realized how good it looked. Rather than go directly to Ollivander’s he did a side trip passed Eeylops Owl Emporium to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour for a double ice cream Butterbeer float.  
Young Egbert Fortescue was serving and when he saw Harry he went a bright red, just like his hair. The Fortescue’s were a distant relation to the Weasley’s on the red head side.  
“Hi Egbert,” Harry said, “The usual double ice cream Butterbeer float.”  
“Sh-sh-sh-ure.” Stuttered young Egbert. He was a well known stutterer. His stutter got worse whenever a cute young girl walked in.  
“How’s business been doing?”  
“R-r-r-r-really g-g-g-good.”  
“Glad to hear it,” Harry said. “Been working on any new flavors?”  
“P-p-p-ep-pp-er-er-er-t flav-v-v-or is g-g-g-oing g-g-good.”  
“Nah, what about something really different? Say butterbeer with moose eggs?”  
“O-o-o n-n-n-o Way. Put-t-t p-p-p-p-eop-p-p-lll off that would.” About then three rather cute girls walked in to the shop. They were on a mission to chat up Egbert. Harry thought it better to give them free reign as Egbert deserved the attention. As he moved aside none of the girls gave him a glance. Fame and fortune is fickle.  
Harry found a comfy chair by the window to watch people passing by. Harry was a good window watcher: he had plenty of time doing it when he was young. With his float in hand Harry settled down: some things are too good to hurry.  
Young Egbert had come back to the Alley and proudly took over the running of the parlour as his father, Florean Fortescue, was kidnapped and later murdered by death eaters during Tom Riddle’s time.  
After the float was downed Harry felt a whole lot better as he strolled into Ollivander’s to the tinkle of the door bell. It took Mr. Ollivander a short while to make it from the back to the counter. “Well bless my soul, its Mr. Potter! Oh how happy I am you are here so I can thank you again for all you have done for me. Your timely intervention was literally life saving. How can I ever replay you for your kindness and dedication in fighting evil.”  
“Thank you for those kind words, Mr. Ollivander. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time to help.”  
“I am sure there was a higher hand in your actions than you may realize. Someone looking after both you and me. Either way, how can I help you today?”  
“Oh, just another question about wands. The more you know the more you realize there is to learn.”  
“Never a more truer word spoken. Being old, I realize I know so very little. The sands of time are running low and I have to keep pressing ahead so I can carry more knowledge with me in to the future.”  
“Let me ask you this. When a wizard dies what is supposed to happen to his or her wand?”  
“Oh Mr. Potter, that is a very insightful question.” Mr. Ollivander took off his glasses and gave them a wipe. Then he continued with, “As you know the wand chooses the wizard. If there is no wizard, what does the wand do? Good question indeed. Wandlore is manifold on this particular topic so I shall answer you the standard way. Upon the death of a wizard, it is the right of the oldest son to pick up the wand, before anyone else, and see if the wand has an affinity to the son.  
“You see, while in this shop all the wands are in a latent state by design. That way I don’t have wands wandering all over the place looking for a wizard. They stay here until called upon to select the right wizard. Once chosen, as you know, there is a long learning process between wand and owner.  
“Now this is where we start skating on thin ice. There are some wand makers, including myself, that believe in wands being handed down through the patriarchal line, that is from father to son and so on. When the father dies, the firstborn son has the right to pick up the wand and see if it performs perfectly as if there has been no change in the person using it.  
“Obviously, the question is, how does the wand know the son when only the father has been using it? That, I’m afraid, is an area of pure speculation. As far as I can tell there are as many theories as there are wand makers. Actually Gregorovitch and I actually agreed on this topic while Rolando in Central America and two excellent African wand makers have the opposite view. “Rather than speculate, let me carry on with what I believe.  
“So let’s say, the son picks up his deceased father’s wand and the wand selects the son. Then what is the son supposed to do with his original wand?  
“As you have come to find out, wizards only have and need one wand… Oh Harry, what on earth were you thinking of? Wandering about with two wands? No one does that. Oh, I do hope you have straightened things out.” Harry had a hard time keeping a straight face as he remembered he was carrying three wands just now.  
Mr. Ollivander continued with, “Most normal sons have to choose what to do. Most in this case choose to use their father’s wand as it is ‘family.’ Once he has chosen that path then he has to disposes of his won wand. Disposal is along traditional lines using the spell, Receptium Totallius. The wand will burst into flames which will consume the wand leaving only dust. That way we do not have myriads of loose wands to worry about.  
“As you can see there are many permutations to the story which would take too much time discussing, so let’s leave it there unless you have another question?” Mr. Ollivander said raising an eyebrow.  
Squirming a bit Harry asked, “What if you find a wand?”  
“As in lying about in some random place?”  
“Sort of random place.”  
“Then you of all people should know you never pick up something randomly lying about. Who knows what sort of magic it has been subjected to? The chances are it is a trap to entice some ignorant person to pick it up and become entombed in some nasty spell, or the like. Even I would call on the Ministry of Magic and have it thoroughly gone through, just in case. Dear me, dear me. Wands lying about the place… what is the world coming to? Next it would be Unicorns for sale here in the Diagon Alley! Never, a thousand times never, pick up something you don’t have the provenance.”  
Even though Harry got the message he had not heard the answer. So he tried another way. “Okay, let’s say the wand belonged to a wizard that died without any son or daughter. What would happen to the wand then?”  
“Then it falls to the wife to make a choice.”  
“What if it is a man who never married. So no wife or kids. And no living relative.”  
“That is a sad situation you paint. No family at all. How sad. In that case, assuming no will, then the Ministry of Magic would step in and usually uses the Receptium Totallius spell.”  
“Would the wand have any allegiance to another wizard?” Harry asked carefully.  
“Wandlore is very hazy here. You are describing a single wizard that dies leaving his wand behind. Would the wand select someone else? Such a situation has to be the rarest of the rare. A one in a hundred thousand. So unusual I can not ever recollect knowing or hearing anything like it.”  
“Hypothetically then?”  
“Even hypothetically there is no base for the guess. And it would be a huge guess for me.  
“Mr. Potter, I hope you are really dealing with a hypothetical situation. I can not begin to imagine what would happen if someone started down that path. I shudder to think.  
“Okay, just one more question. What about the incantation Prior Incantato? Does it work on all wands?”  
“Oh I don’t see why not. Just your average spell reversal. Now if you are going to do it, it can be a bit of a bore going back over old stuff. Now if you use one of those pens that take dictation, you can record all the spells onto one parchment for easy review at some later date. That is how I honed by spell making abilities. I could easily see if my diction was right or not. And, so long as you don’t use an eradication spell, all the original spells will stay with the wand.”  
Turning the tables, Mr. Ollivander said, “Now let me ask you a question. When will young Ronald Weasley be back from gallivanting about the world? Australia indeed. I was hoping he would be here to start his apprenticeship.”  
“You know Mr. Ollivander, I haven’t had an owl from him yet. I would guess it is taking a day or so longer than what he thought.”  
“And taking that lovely Miss. Granger with him. What is the world coming to? When will they get married and settle down so he can be here.” Then Mr. Ollivander let out a sigh. “I suppose being a wand maker’s apprentice is better than joining his brothers down at the joke shop. A more honorable profession, I think. Then again, they do seem to be busy all the time.” Mr. Ollivander peered out his shop window at all the young children gathered about Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes windows. “Inside there is always something going bang, or loud screeches, and the like. Times are certainly changing. Be glad to let young Ronald take over the shop so I can retire in peace.”  
Mr. Ollivander turned to Harry and asked, “Did you know Percy has stepped in and taken the place of Fred? He has developed a spectacular line of jokes to be played on Ministry of Magic personnel. Taken off like a rocket. Even been inside myself. Had to deal with some stuffed shirt from the ministry just the other day. Pompous idiot was asking to see my records of who bought what wand. Silly twit. No one does that. Then he started to quote some rule or regulation so I dropped one of Percy’s creations. It’s about the size of a knut. They work in a matter of seconds and bingo! There is a small Terrier snapping at the legs of the Ministry of Magic person. Percy said the dog is designed to go after Ministry people and knows who they are because they have a certain smell. Well the silly twit ran yelling and screaming out of the shop. I have another one of Percy’s jokes ready for his next visit.” Harry couldn’t believe he was hearing Mr. Ollivander correctly. Dropping jokes on ministry people at his age!  
Harry got up and extended his hand. Mr. Ollivander accepted the offer. “You know Mr. Ollivander, It’s always a pleasure to be in your shop. I learn something ever time.”  
“I’m just glad I can be of use to someone outside the end of summer rush when all the first years come in for their wands.” There was a long pause before Mr. Ollivander said, “Your questions are most stimulating. Our discussions most thought provoking. I do enjoy these moments. Take care, Mr. Potter, take care.”  
And with that, Harry walked out the door to the tinkle of the little door bell. He suddenly stopped, turned around and walked back into the shop where Mr. Ollivander was still standing in the exact same spot.  
“Forgot something, did we?” Mr. Ollivander asked in amusement. He was getting too used to Harry’s odd ways.  
“I was wondering if you ever have wands that don’t make it?”  
“’Don’t make it?’ Is an interesting statement that conveys absolutely no meaning to me. Please rephrase the question and we shall endeavor to answer it.”  
“Like you make a wand that is not any good. Like doesn’t work.”  
“Like a dud? Do you mean?”  
“That’s right. Like a dud that doesn’t work.” Harry said with a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice for Mr. Ollivander’s liking.  
“And what, pray may I ask would you be doing with a dud wand?”  
“Gag gifts for Ron and Hermione. For when they get back.” Harry said with still too much enthusiasm in his voice.  
“Why not buy them from the Weasley’s shop. They sell very good copies of wands.”  
“Yeh, but they’d spot a Weasley fake a mile off. Now, if you had a couple dud wands from you, now that would trick them.”  
“Trick them for what purpose?”  
“For the fun of it! Time to get back at Ron for always scrounging off Hermione at school. Then I’d keep the second one for a good gag on Hermione. Gotta have two, just in case.”  
“Really? Got to have two. Is that how it is these days. Got to have two. Sounds like some new music tune I keep hearing from the Weasley shop. I’m sure it will be #1 in the charts by Christmas. Got to have two… really.”  
“Do you have something like that?”  
“Mr. Potter. You really think that I make duds? That I do not know my trade? That I make mistakes? Really… your impression of my lengthy time at wand making is not entirely incorrect. Sadly I have been struggling with Mesquite wood. An extremely hard and temperamental wood that requires a great deal of attention to the grain, more so than all the other woods I am familiar with. Seems to be popular with Hispanic wizards of the northern Mexico through the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts.  
“Sadly I have never had the pleasure of having a Mesquite wand select anyone other than Hispanic.  
“At my age, I find Mesquite difficult to work and have had to reject most of the wood I have been worked. These fingers,” Mr. Ollivander said as he showed Harry his gnarly looking hands and fingers, “Are not as dexterous as they used to be. They have turned out to be cantankerous and thoroughly independent of each other and of me!. That is why I am eager that young Ronald takes up his position with all due haste.  
“Now let me see where I threw those rejects. Rejects not duds, Mr. Potter.” The voice trailed off as Mr. Ollivander disappeared into his work shop in the back.  
After about five minutes Mr. Ollivander reappeared with three wands in his hand. “These, I feel, would fool any regular wizard. Much finer than a Weasley wand.  
“This first one,” said Mr. Ollivander as he held the wand up to the light as he turned it in his fingers, “Was an early model of Mesquite and Turkey feather. A very poor mix that did absolutely nothing. Worse than a dud.”  
“Now this one,” Mr. Ollivander said as he gently picked up the second and shorter wand, “Turned out too thin. Too thin to add anything to it. So it is only wood and only wood does not make a wand.”  
“This last one was going to be a great wand. See how the light bounces off the dark grain of the wood. A rigid 8 ¾” wand. The rigidity turned out to be the problem and that is generally true of Mesquite. I have tried to see where to add something to this particular wand and consistently failed to see the opening. The wand only becomes a wand once the symbiotic union is accomplished. Alas, I failed to create a union resulting in a nice piece of wood..”  
“The joining?”  
“Look at your wand. It is 11" long, made of holly, and had a phoenix feather core. Still an unusual combination of wand core and wood. The feather and the wood have to accept and bond to each other. Exactly how it is accomplished is outside the control of the wand maker. Again, alas, we step into the realms of Wandlore and speculation.  
“The combination works. I know it works because I have consistently seen it happen right before my eyes. Two items, acting independently, willingly subject their will to the good of the wand. Two very dissimilar items becoming one powerful wand. But that union is still not enough. To bring that wand to life requires a Wizard. Now the wand and the wizard embark on a lifetime of adventure and learning because, as I have frequently told you, the wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around.  
“Now get out and enjoy your time before school starts. Then, I can assure you, fun will be over and you will be facing snotty nosed children explaining to you why they are late with their homework. Now off you go and let me know the minute you receive and owl from young Ronald.”  
“Will do,” Harry said as he smiled at Mr. Ollivander. He liked to old wand maker as Mr. Ollivander treated him as an equal since their very first meeting so many years ago.  
Harry stepped out of Ollivander’s wand shop and back into the crowd. He eased over to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to see what Percy had been up to.  
The minute Harry walked into Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes all the faces around the wall let out loud raspberries. Everyone was looking about a bit worried, a bit scared. From the back out bounced George Weasley.  
“Harry’s here! The trap worked!”  
“You did that for me?”  
“Of course you silly idiot. We set it up to go off the minute you walked in. How else were we to know when the famous dueler Mr. Harry Potter would enter our humble place?” George grabbed Harry in a huge hug. “Damn good to see you Harry, so good. And thanks for coming to Fred’s funeral. Meant a lot to the family.” George let go of Harry and pulled out a huge handkerchief and blew real hard. Harry noticed moisture in George’s eyes. The death of Fred has left a huge hole in the Weasley family and more so in George’s life being the twin.  
“What Happened?” Percy said as he entered the shop area. “Oh hi Harry. Must have been you. Fancy seeing you here. What’s going on in your world?”  
“Hi Percy, trying to do some stuff at Hogwarts.”  
“Not chasing anything are you?”  
“Not this time. Cleaning out old spells from the battle.”  
“Ooo, now that sounds interesting. Any chance I could assist?”  
“Hang on a moment,” George said, “you are booked up for the next several weeks here at Diagon Alley doing your famous presentations.”  
“Dang, I forgot. Sorry Harry: duty calls.”  
“What presentations are you doing? Harry asked. His interest was peaked.  
“Mainly sales presentations to people here in Diagon Alley. Really elaborate sales presentations showing parents the latest stuff to help their budding wizard or witch get ahead at Hogwarts. Do it at 10 and 2pm. Brings in the families and the kids get to see some of the latest stuff George has been up to.”  
George added, “And you should see how many single girls are up front. Remember, Percy is still single, making pots of money, and looking to settle down.”  
“Bate?” Harry asked.  
“Bate? Of course bate.” George said brightly. “Brings in the girls and they have to look at our ‘New Look’ line for girls. We are seriously looking for help here. Never realized how much money girls spend on stuff. Harry, it’s big, really big.” Then George looked at Harry and said, “Would you think of joining us? I mean to say, three eligible bachelors in one shop… just think of it. All the girls in the wizarding world would be coming through our doors. Looking for us and buying our stuff.” A glazed look went across George’s face. A look of gold coins rolling down the road and into his pocket.  
“Oi, matey, I’m supposed to be dating your sister… Remember?”  
“We could work around that…” George mused  
That was when Harry tapped George on the head and said, “Earth to George, earth to George… come in George…”  
“Owe! Okay, okay, just thinking.”  
“Then think about something else then.” Changing the topic Harry asked, “How’s Ginny?”  
“Flopping about waiting for you.”  
“Yea, better go see her soon.” Harry said as he was still conjuring up ideas to try back in the cave.  
“Good idea,” Percy added. “Mother is having a tough time dealing with a love struck girl at home.”  
“Love struck? You think so?” cut in George.  
“You are really thick at times,” Percy said to George. “Open your eyes a bit and you will see it.”  
“Well if I can’t see it, how come you can?”  
“Go work at the Ministry and you’ll see a bit too much of life at that place. Glad to be out of it.” Percy said in a very flat voice.  
“That bad?” Harry asked.  
“Not at first. You know, young kid on the street assumes everyone knows what to do in the best interest of the people. Stars in your eyes. Power struck at how easy it is at the top. Then you start seeing stuff. Then you start questioning stuff. Big people tell you to shut up and do your job. You know important people know best. That is when I realized father was not too far off the mark. And that is when reality set in and I ended up just in time to fight for our side.”  
“Well said big brother, well said.” Then an awkward silence fell on the three young men as they thought of the missing Fred. The loss was still fresh in every Weasley’s mind as it was with Harry.  
“Here,” Percy said and handed Harry some small round objects. “Good for ministry people. It’s sill being worked on so I’d appreciate a full report on what happened. We are developing a continuous improvement program based on feedback from trusted users. You, young man, are a trusted person.”  
“Will do.” Harry said as he stuffed the objects deep into his trouser pocket.” Then he asked, “Any news from Ron?”  
“Had an owl just the other day. Some bright spark chose this huge owl to fly a skinny message all the way from Australia. Been eating us out of house and home. I think it’s waiting for a return reply. You should see the price list strapped to its leg. Mum has tried shooing it away but the ruddy thing keeps coming back. The only good thing is the garden gnomes keep out of sight all the time. They don’t want to end up as a meal.”  
Harry waited and waited then asked, “Well, what did it say?”  
“Usual stuff. All is well. Doing fine. Going slower than expected. Hermione is working hard and the food is rotten.” George looked at Percy, Percy nodded in agreement, “Yep, that’s about it.”  
“That was it?”  
“Told you it was a skinny note. Ron is not known for writing a lot. Should have let Hermione do all the writing for both of them. She’d do better.”  
“Yeh… bet she has her hands full with her parents.”  
“Dodgy spells memory restoration ones are.”  
Percy added, “Care and concentration is what you need.”  
George added, “That’s Hermione. She’s about as good as it gets.”  
The conversation died slowly, each lost in their own thoughts. That is when Harry said, “Time to get going. Got to be back in Hogwarts tonight. Things to do.”  
“Like what is there to do in that empty place?” Percy said, “That is the only time ministry men would go there: when Dumbledore was out on some lake or other. ‘Pottering about on boats’ he’d call it. No one ever knew he liked sailing so there were usually some ministry man or other close by. That’s one of the weird things you learn at the ministry.”  
“Spying on Dumbledore?” Harry blurted out. “You were spying on Professor Dumbledore!”  
“Not me personally,” Fired back Percy. “Other people from the ministry. And there were a few others keeping an eye on him also.”  
“What! Are you serious?” Harry said on a very loud voice. “What are we talking about? Five, ten, a hundred or what all following and spying on one man!”  
“It was Dumbledore, after all.”  
“And what was it he supposedly done to need all these people spying on him?”  
“It wasn’t spying; it was keeping an eye on him.” Percy said trying to calm Harry down.  
“Call it what you will, why was it done.”  
“Don’t know. I was too junior. That was top drawer stuff. Only certain people at the top knew it went on.”  
“So how did you know?”  
“People talk. They always do. I was in a lift going down when I overheard a couple of rough looking characters chatting about their latest camping trip. A couple of extendable ears later I had the whole story. Like I said, people talk.”  
Harry was absolutely dumfounded that people from the ministry would be spying on Professor Dumbledore… and for why? What had he done that could bother people at the ministry. That’s when he started to calm down as he started to remember all the trouble Professor Dumbledore had. That is when Harry asked, “Did I have anyone following me?”  
The look on Percy’s face was one of a deer caught in the headlights. Percy had spilled one bean too many. “Aaaa… Harry. Yes, Harry. Life is not all roses in the ministry. You have to choose sides a lot of the time…”  
“Like facing Tom Riddle? Is that what you mean?” Harry said with cold ice in his voice.  
Percy was hopping from one foot to the other. He was not good at hiding the truth like Fred and George were.  
“Spit it out big brother. You’re caught so get it over with.”  
“Okay, you two. Just between us three. Okay?”  
Harry and George said, “Okay,” in perfect unison.  
“Now I was too junior so I only heard it in passing. The girls in the office were on your side Harry. Until Umbridge was brought back to the Ministry from her stint at Hogwarts. Then things got ugly. She had it in for you from the minute she walked back through the door.  
“She set up a small task force to keep an eye on you. She hand picked the scum of the earth: bad types. She had four teams of four. Three teams on an eight hour shift with the fourth team as a back-up. They were waiting for you on your seventeenth birthday just in case Snape’s information was false. It wasn’t and you managed to avoid everyone right up to the battle at Hogwarts. And that’s the gospel truth.”  
Harry looked carefully at Percy and had a good feeling about him. Harry said, “Thank you Percy for being honest with me. I hope you will do me the big favor by being at Umbridge’s trial and repeat that story. I’ll also be there to tell my own story about my run-in with Professor Umbridge.”  
“Sure thing Harry. I can do that for you.”  
With a big smile on his face Harry said, “Thanks. You guys are the best. Like I said, I’d better be getting back to Hogwarts… things to do!” With that Harry wandered off to back to the Leaky Cauldron.  
“Hi Tom,” Harry called out as he passed thought the pub and stepped out into the road. Harry wanted to do a bit of walking to clear away the fog of the moment.  
As he stepped out so did another man. The other man called out, “Potter, Harry Potter?”  
Harry stopped and turned around. As he did so his hand fell to his wand. “That’s me.”  
“Herberfortissimo from the Ministry. Here.” Mr. Herberfortissimo handed over two scrolls, tipped his hat and walked back in to the Leaky Cauldron. A dumfounded Harry was rooted to the ground with two scrolls in his hand. Slowly Harry unrolled the first one.

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We have received intelligence that you have been apparating without a license for some time. This must stop immediately!  
The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your presence being required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. Please be prompt so that the proceedings can be conducted on time.

Hoping all is well with you,

Yours Sincerely  
Mafalda Hopkirk  
IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE  
Ministry of Magic.

Harry felt absolutely dumfounded by the letter. Didn’t anyone know what he had just done? Didn’t anyone care that Tom Riddle was gone and normality has returned? Had the world gone mad? Then Harry read the second parchment.

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We have received intelligence that you have been discussing wizard means and methods with a non-wizard. Fraternizing with non-wizards is strictly forbidden according to the terms and conditions as laid down in the Third Wizard Concordance of 1311. All discussions between the first party and the second party must stop immediately! Failure to do so will result in your incarceration at Azcaban.  
Due to the severity of your actions you are hereby ordered to appear at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. Please be prompt so that the proceedings can be conducted on time.

Hoping all is well with you,

Yours Sincerely  
Yolanda Sin  
UNAPPROVED INTERRACIAL ACTIVITIES  
Ministry of Magic.

Harry was mad, really mad. Harry was angry, really angry. Harry was upset, really upset. The whole world has gone mad, really mad. The world was now upside-down. People sending him dumb letters while he was trying to save the wizarding world from Tom Riddle. What the hell was going on?  
Where was Ron and Hermione when he needed them the most? They would know what to do. Since they were not about, who to turn to? That is when Harry made a decision.  
Harry apparated down a side alley at Hogsmeade and strode purposefully over to the Hog’s Head Inn. He entered and made eye contact with Aberforth. Aberforth knew something was up and nodded upstairs. Harry climbed up the same stairs he did a few days before. On the mantelpiece was the same small propped up rectangular mirror and the portrait of Ariana. Except this time the portrait contained the two faces of a brother and sister.  
“Welcome Harry, fancy seeing you here.” Beamed Professor Dumbledore. “Just having a little family chat. We can do that now I’m no longer headmaster or assisting you chasing Tom about the place. So, what brings you to this humble establishment?”  
Harry was just about to kick a chair or two when Aberforth entered room and said, “What’s wrong?”  
Harry looked at all three of them. For a good few moments he was too upset to say anything. He just looked from face to face then realized no one knew what had happened. He opened his mouth and out tumbled the whole story. Harry had learned it’s best to say everything as he needed help and could not think of a better place than this. Once Harry finished his story he handed the two parchments to Aberforth who quickly read them. Then he cursed the Ministry of Magic yet again. There was no love lost between Aberforth and the Ministry.  
“Seems the Ministry is getting back to normal,” Albus said. “They like nothing better than law and order. Their laws and their orderly way of interpreting their laws.”  
“A bit cynical these days?” Aberforth commented while deep in thought. Both brothers knew once the Ministry had their teeth into something it was hard for them to let go.  
“Not really. Since Harry here has defeated Tom, the regular people from the Ministry have returned and picked up the pieces as if nothing has happened. To their myopic way of thinking, Harry has committed two rather serious crimes that need to be discussed at separate disciplinary hearings at the same time at the same day. Typical Ministerial mess-up if you ask me.”  
“So, what am I going to do?” Harry asked. The knot in the pit of his stomach was still there churning away.  
“First,” Aberforth said, “Be there on time. Don’t give them a chance for chasing you down.  
“Second, get your ducks in a row.  
“Third, go in strength  
“Did I miss anything?” Aberforth asked the painting.  
“Dress smartly,” Ariana said. “Not Hogwarts stuff as you have graduated. Dress business like.”  
“Excellent idea,” Albus added.  
“Which means not like my brother,” Aberforth tossed on the table.  
“Ooo, that means Minchkins the Marvel!” said Ariana as she clapped her hands together. “He did my baptismal robes! They were so beautiful.”  
Harry looked at Aberforth for some sort of explanation. Aberforth obliged with, “Minchkins the Marvel is very well known for last minute outfits. His creations are all marvelous, all fitting, and suitable for all occasions, for all people, so long as they could pay his high prices.”  
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Albus said, “He owes me a favor or two.”  
“But you’re dead.” Harry blurted out.  
“Alive, dead, here, there… it’s all the same. The path onward has to be walked, and walk I must. Likewise a debt is still a debt that has to be paid. If the debt is not paid then progress is hampered. Believe me Harry; you don’t want your progress hampered by something as trivial as a trifle here or there.”  
“I’ll call him. I’m sure he’s heard and is waiting. He’s always well informed.” With that Aberforth waved his wand in a very elaborate way. Almost as if he was writing a letter. This wand waving went on for a full two minutes and at the end Aberforth said, “Done.”  
“Well put.” Commented Albus. “Couldn’t have done any better.”  
“Thank you brother.” As the last syllable died away there came the familiar Minchkins the Marvel saying of, “I’m free,” from the bar below.  
“Right on queue,” Aberforth said as he headed downstairs to escort Minchkins upstairs. As usual Minchkins had his retinue of workers, hangers-on, and assorted riffraff. As the saying goes, ‘When Minchkins arrives it is a marvel to behold!’  
Minchkins did not enter the room: No! Minchkins burst through the door in a blaze of colour, noise, grand bows full of airs and graces. He was a throwback to a bygone era of beau’s and dandy’s. His clothing was full of ruffles, frills, high collars, satin jackets, silk stockings and shoes with big, as in really big, buckles. “Well lady and gentlemen I hear there is a need of special skills for a special occasion. Am I right or am I right?”  
“Oh Minchkins I see you have not lost your touch for a grand entrance.” Albus said in a dry tone.  
“Oh Professor Dumbledore,” Minchkins replied in an emotionally sad voice, “I see you are dead. Such a pity. I could have updated your robes to something more suitable to your demise rather than your usual fair. You should have called, you know. Fifteen minutes is all I need.”  
“Alas on that occasion tempus fugit was not on my side. However, I shall endeavor to do better next time.”  
“Always the comedian, aren’t we Professor Dumbledore.”  
“Sorry to bust up this mutual approbation society meeting but we have work to do.” Aberforth interjected. “Mr. Potter here has an important date tomorrow. A ministerial date if you get my meaning. And he needs to look his best. Get it?”  
“Got it,” Minchkins said as he expertly scanned Harry. He then stuck out his hand and said, “Mr. Potter, it is an absolute honor to shake hands with you. You and you alone were able to see through the pettifoggery of ministerial malpractice and intransigence. You and you alone had the fortitude to stand up for what was right and that was the sure knowledge that Lord Voldemort had returned and was inordinately working to over throw the wishes of the wizarding community. Your fortitude, skill, daring and sheer determination was unable to warn the people so it fell to you to single-handedly fight the demon incarnate: Lord Voldemort in mortal combat. Which, as every wizard know knows you won. How honored I am so be of humble service?”  
From the picture Albus had a bored look and was giving a very slow handclap while Ariana was checking her face in a mirror. Then Albus said, “A very droll rendition of the immediate past that, hopefully, will be consigned to the dung heap by all present. And before we go too far, there is the question of a little service I assisted you with, which, as I remember, payment is still outstanding. Am I correct, or am I correct?”  
“Ha ha ha… that was a long time ago. Fancy still retaining that in the cobwebs of time.”  
“Time has past it’s relevance for me: not so for you. For you service here, shall we say we are even? That is so long as you cover the wedding, whenever it happens.”  
“Bride and groom?”  
“Naturally.”  
“That is a bit steep of a price…”  
“That was some service.”  
“Then okay, we shall be even.”  
“Agreed: so long as you don’t cut corners.”  
“You cut me to the quick with that slicing and dicing comment. I have my reputation to protect, you know.”  
“And if I remember correctly it was your reputation with got you into a spot of bother in the beginning.”  
“A silly misunderstanding.”  
“That required bailing you out.”  
“Ah, like I said a misunderstanding.”  
“Hopefully not now. So please attend to Mr. Potter with all due diligence. He needs to look his best for tomorrow at the Ministry.”  
“Of course he shall!” And with that Minchkins the Marvel moved Harry to front and center and then walked about his subject looking, digesting, appraising and mulling over the myriad of options open to him. As he walked his entourage would throw out commends. Some complementary and others not so. Then a silly looking young man with a lopsided cap joined Minchkins the Marvel in his wanderings. Since the young man was shorter than Minchkins, Minchkins promptly used him as a place to rest his arm. The odd looking couple continued to walk round and round the self-conscious Mr. Potter chatting away, pointing at this or that facet of Harry’s stature or anatomy. In mid stride Minchkins said in an authoritative tone, “I’ve got it!” In an instant the entire entourage surrounded Minchkins forming a huddle not to dissimilar from rugby huddle. The noise emanating from the huddle rose and fell, rose and fell. It went on for a good fifteen minutes. All the while Harry was totally nonplused by what was going on. Aberforth smiled at Harry while Albus chatted away to his sister.  
“Voila!” Cried out Minchkins the Marvel as he burst forth from the middle of the huddle. In his hands was a cape of magnificent black material that seemed to suck in the light from the entire room. “Made from the only material blacker than black with silver and gold threading. Of course, totally scan proof. Also note the gold with silver inlay clasps and chain. Fit for a prince! See here,” Minchkins said pointing to the clasp elements, “Blue sapphires of unquestionable quality, size and depth. Only a king’s ransom could afford this.”  
“Is that all? A cape?” Aberforth fired back.  
That is when Minchkins snapped his finger and one of his entourage handed him a fully clothed hanger. “Of course not. Since it is the Ministry, then it has to be a morning suit of epic quality, colour, cut and clarity…”  
“This is not a diamond store,” Albus interjected.  
“Like brother and brother. If you would be patient I shall explain.” Both brothers gave slight nods while Ariana settled down to listen. “Thank you. The entrance shall be at street level as that will be most dramatic. None of this Floo stuff. Not for Mr. Potter. The cloak is to hide, to mask, to drive up the tension until he removes it in the meeting. It must be done with a flourish, with style and in full view of everyone as everyone will already be captivated by his demanding appearance. Is everyone with me?  
“Dramatic entrance? Is that what we are talking about?” Albus queried.  
“Yes, but a whole lot more,” Minchkins said, “Anyone can make a grand entrance, but there is only one Mr. Potter, and Mr. Potter has the name recognition, the persona, and is known to carry more wands than any other wizard in living memory. When Mr. Potter enters the ministry, every pair of eyes will want to see him as everyone owes their job to him. This, I would dare to say, has never happened in the entire history of wizards or muggles.”  
“I too have been thinking about something that has never happened before,” Albus said, “How many wands are you carrying these days, Harry?”  
“Ah… hard to say… these days… that is. When I have a moment I’ll have a look.” Harry said in a very evasive tone as he avoided eye contact with his late headmaster.  
“If I was alive I’d have you upside-down shaking everything out of your pockets. Good thing I’m dead.” Albus said with a twinkle in his eye. Then he added, “Fancy you taking the long way back the Hogwarts: the other day, that is. Oh yes, I had a brief chat with Professor Snape before he moved on. Said he was glad you are going to take up the post of Defense against the Dark Arts. He thinks you will do well.”  
“I have not accepted the post.”  
“True, but I’m sure you are in deep thought about it.”  
“Gentlemen,” Minchkins cut in with, “I have work to do and time is short. Can we get back to Mr. Potter and his dress?”  
“Of course,” Albus said, “Carry on.”  
“When the Ministry people enter and sit, they expect everyone else to sit and then things get rolling. Not this time. I would like to suggest Mr. Potter remain standing. This will make him the center of attention. Only then will he remove the cape in a full sweeping motion to reveal the extraordinary morning suit.”  
“Why a penguin suit?” Aberforth said in a demeaning tone.  
“A morning suit might be a bit over the top here in Hogsmeade, but, I assure you, not in the current situation at the Ministry. Turmoil is still the order of the day despite all the good work Mr. Shacklebolt is doing.” Turning to Harry, Minchkins added, “He’s doing good but needs some solid support: if you know what I mean.”  
“You mean the ministry is reverting back to its normal backbiting and backstabbing ways?” Aberforth asked.  
“Sadly Lord Voldemort never purged the ministry of all the rotten apples, dead wood, and relatives of Brutus.”  
“Brutus? Who’s Brutus?” Aberforth asked.  
Harry was about to answer but Minchkins got there first and said, “Nasty fellow, handy with a knife. But that is all in the past and we are here in the present. Please… direct your attention to the morning suit. Note the whiteness of the shirt. Not your normal white, more on the pure side of white than regular white. The counterpoise being the black cloth again with silver and gold threading. Threading so light you will not see it up close. And, of course, a rather bold blue sapphire of the deep heart variety as the tie pin. This ensemble, I guarantee will catch the breath away of both the males and females in attendance. By tomorrow afternoon, I can again guarantee Mr. Potter will have single-handedly changed the fashion of wizards in this fair land for at least the next twenty years. Then I shall invent something new and that would last for the next twenty years.”  
“Bit cocky aren’t we?” Aberforth muttered at all this high fashion and conceitedness.  
“Mr. Dumbledore, the world is waiting for something to burst froth from the dark clouds we have been living under. Terror is now dead and hope is springing forth. Mr. Potter here represents the hope we all yearn for. The trouble being no one knows what they are yearning for. That will be answered by the fashionable appearance of Mr. Potter at the Ministry tomorrow morning. That will be the start of a fashionable dam bursting bringing forth colour, new styles and enjoyment by all. Of course there will be dower men in dark corners doddering over their muttering about the damage change is doing to the wizarding community. Change is the only constant in this world… always has been and always will be.”  
“Profound words or a bust. We shall see all by the end of tomorrow.” Albus said thoughtfully.  
“Then my work is done and I must be off. A call from a certain lady in distress over a dress not being suitable for a late dinner. I must attend.”  
“Of course,” Albus said, “And thank you.”  
“Not at all. It has been a great pleasure to be of some small service and to meet Mr. Potter. I shall remember this meeting the rest of my life and preserve this memory with all the diligence a wizard should.” With that Minchkins the Marvel and his followers filtered out the room, down the stairs and out the front door.  
“Aberforth, can I leave Harry in your capable hands to get his ducks in a row for tomorrow?”  
“Oh, I suppose so.” Then turning to Harry Aberforth asked, “School is back in session for you. I have to get you ready for tomorrow.”  
For some strange reason Harry had a good feeling about the impending doom of the pending morning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Tuesday May 12, 1998**

 

  
Quidditch is a simple game  
based on giving and taking of passes,  
of controlling the ball  
and of making yourself available to receive a pass.  
It is terribly simple.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Aberforth worked Harry with the vim and vigor of any professor at Hogwarts. When Harry went to bed he was absolutely bone tired. He slept soundly with a jumble of thoughts and dreams. What Harry was looking for was the dream of Ginny and himself eating ice cream. He couldn’t find it.  
“Come on Harry, it’s time to get up.” Aberforth yelled from the ground floor. Harry tried to open his eyes but they weren’t working. Slowly the day registered and he crawled out of bed. He reached for this friendly Parasol and tossed a pinch over himself while muttering the spell Clesnotum Totalis. In a flash Harry was clean, tidy, shiny, and still not awake. Forcing one eye open Harry stood up, walked over to his new clothing and started to unbutton his morning suit. It had a strange feel. Not strange as in weird, just strange as in strange. The cloth texture felt strange, like it was not cloth at all. But it had to be as it slipped on and fitted like a glove. Whatever Minchkins the Marvel made, he made very well and felt very good. Harry was glad Minchkins did not produce a top hat to go with the outfit. Then again, not many wizards wore hats for every day stuff. Evenings and dinning out was different. Then hats were more common.  
Once fully dressed Harry reached for the cape. This Harry really liked. The cape felt light as a feather, tough as old boots and, after last nights beating, clean as a whistle. Harry, holding the cape in a casual over the arm position, swished it up and over his shoulders in one clean move that even impressed himself. That was when Harry allowed himself his first and last smile before heading off to the Ministry.  
The shoes Minchkins left were perfectly balanced, properly sized, and super quiet. They seemed to direct Harry’s feet to the quieter part of the wooden stairs as he came down to be greeted by Aberforth and a piping hot breakfast.  
“Where is Arena?” Harry asked noticing the picture frame was empty.  
“Off somewhere. She seems to have a full social schedule these days. Same with my brother. Then again they are of no use to us on this Ministry visit.”  
“You coming?”  
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world. Need some livening up these days. Letting school out so early caught us all on the hop. Mean to say, my holidays aren’t due to start for a few more weeks… after school was supposed to be out.”  
“Messed you up did I?”  
“Nah, Got to be flexible in this business. Anyway time to go.” That is when Harry noticed that Aberforth was dressed like a muggle: well sort of. Not many people wear Berets these days. Harry polished off his breakfast and felt really good about the day.  
“Okay then, side-a-long we go.” Aberforth said which raised Harry’s blood pressure. Aberforth could see Harry’s temperature rising so he added, “Look, you are in deep do-do, don’t go any deeper.” Harry took hold of Aberforth’s arm and they disapparated from the pub and apparated at Grimmauld Place. “We’ll walk from here. I believe you know the way.”  
“Why not apparate at the ministry?”  
“That’s what they are expecting. They are expecting you to blow your stack and stick up two fingers. Since that’s what they are expecting, we won’t do it. We walk in taking the high ground. Which, for thick people, is, taking the moral high ground and keeping calm!”  
“Keep calm. Ha!” Muttered Harry out loud. “Keep calm… Like I can’t keep calm! Yes I can keep calm. Just let me get my hands on the twits from the Ministry and we’ll see who is last one standing.!”  
”See, that is what everyone expects from you. Press your buttons and out you come swinging. Same with your trademark Expelliarmus spell. Everyone knows you use it first. That could be our downfall one day. Change or get beat.  
“Nothing wrong with liking a spell.” Harry said a bit too loudly.  
“Liking and drooling over it is two different things.” Aberforth quickly recognized the signs. He had been there with his departed brother. When the two of them would stand toe to toe, nose to nose yelling at each other while poking each other in the chest as hard as they could. All semblance of brotherly love lost while cruel crass anger reigned.  
That was when Aberforth put up his hand and said in a somber tone, “Harry, I’m sorry. I’m out of line. I apologize.”  
Harry was stunned by the abrupt change. In that instant he lost all the wind in his sail and looked at Aberforth wondering if it was a trick or something. All he ever heard about Aberforth was his temper: and now it was gone.  
“I’m out of line for speaking like that to you. You killed Tom Riddle. You did everyone a huge favor. You have every right to be upset and you have the right to be heard. Sadly the Ministry has other thoughts and if you are late to your hearings things could get very sticky for you. So, if you are ready we need to hoof it to the tube.”  
Harry felt the sincerity and put out his hand. “I’m sorry to, Aberforth. Friends are too few to loose. Right now I could use all the friends I have.”  
Aberforth grabbed Harry’s hand in a firm grip and said, “Then let’s go and knock some heads together!”  
Off they marched through the early morning mist of London town. The city that never sleeps was living up to it’s name as the early morning trucks were rumbling by on one of the many main roads in the area. As they approached the same tube station the number of people increased. It was as if the lights of the entrance was pulling reluctant workers just like the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Aberforth was nonplussed by the tube just like it was some everyday affair. Even Harry’s smart outfit did not raise but one or two bleary eyes. Most though he was some toff going home to his rich bed in Knightsbridge.  
The underground rumbled round to Embankment where they joined the throngs of business men off to the business centers of London to squeeze a few more bob out of the poor undeserving classes of Britain.  
They filed to the right of the escalators to allow hard pressed, attaché carrying, eager beavers to get to their desks a few seconds faster than their comrades that continued to read the free newspapers found on the underground trains.  
As Aberforth and Harry exited the station and joined the glum faced workers of London Aberforth offered an odd observation. “Do you notice every one wears a watch of some description or other?”  
Harry scanned the immediate area and said, “Everyone always wears one. How else are they going to tell the time?”  
“Exactly! But who invented time?” Since Harry offered no reply, Aberforth set off at a good pace saying, over his shoulder to Harry, “Hurry up. This way.” As he sallied forth to the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry.  
Harry vaguely remembered the way while Aberforth was sure of the way. As they walked away from the Thames the buildings became less imposing reflecting their lower stature and importance to London’s business center. The roads also became more and more grubby looking with their fair share of rubbish bins still full from neglect.  
Finally they rounded the corner and there stood the same bright red telephone box that did not look that imposing in the shadow of a close by building. Harry went in and was followed by Aberforth. Once the door closed Aberforth picked up the receiver and dialed 6 - 2 - 4 - 4 -2. Harry was beginning to wonder about the smoothness that Aberforth was showing. Like, he knew the way to the visitor’s entrance a bit too easily. And now the number.  
The same clear female voice came over the sound system inside the telephone box. “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”  
Aberforth spoke in a resonating voice not to dissimilar to that of his brother’s, “Mr. Potter and Mr. Dumbledore. Here for Mr. Potter’s disciplinary hearing.”  
The voice came back with, “Thank you. Visitor’s, please take a badge and affix it to the front of your robes.”  
There was the same click and the same rattle as before. Then out of the coin return shoot appeared two badges. Harry took one and handed the other to Aberforth. Harry looked at his a bit closer this time. His square silver badge had printed on it, Mr. Potter, Disciplinary Hearing. This time there was a small number two stamped in the top right corner surrounded by what looked a canopied penny farthing bicycle.  
Aberforth peered at Harry’s badge then said, “You’re number two. Seems I’ve been promoted. I’ve gone from twelve to number six. Lowest is best; or so I was told.”  
“Does it mean anything?” Harry asked.  
“Don’t know. But I’m sure someone, somewhere knows what it’s all about. They always do. Oh yes, don’t try and pin anything to your robe or clothes. Won’t work. Just hold the badge close and it will stay in place.” Harry did and it worked.  
Just then the voice came back with, “Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the atrium. Thank you and have an enjoyable visit to your Ministry or Magic.”  
This time Harry was ready for the telephone box to descend. Being ready and feeling good about going downward is two different things. The dull grinding noise continued as they went downward deeper into the solid ground. About a minute later light appeared at their feet and slowly worked upward and they went downward to floor level.  
“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a successful and prosperous day.” The woman’s voice concluded with.  
The telephone box door opened and out stepped Aberforth and Harry. Harry knew where they were and suspected Aberforth also knew as he did not hesitate in heading off in the direction of the security desk. Harry paused to review his memories of the atrium.  
He was, again, standing at one end of the atrium with its highly polished, dark wood floor. He glanced up at the peacock-blue ceiling that was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols. He was sure their movements and constant changes had some meaning that he was not privy to. To his left was the Floo network entrance while to his left was the Floo network exit. Even though the fireplaces looked enormous, they were so quiet that all you heard was a soft whoosh as someone came or went. The Floo network was the main means of transportation used by people working at the Ministry: so long as you had Floo powder at hand.  
Aberforth stopped and looked back at Harry. He was not alone. A slow ripple effect was taking place throughout the atrium starting immediately around Harry and, one by one, went out. Then the clapping started. First one person, then two, then three, four, five and on and on and on. Harry stood there nodding to the people from the Ministry as the noise grew louder and louder and louder. The noise brought others into the atrium and the word went out that Harry Potter was there which, in turn brought more and more people into the atrium which, in turn made the noise rise in volume.  
Harry slowly walked toward Aberforth and the two of them cut a path through the throngs of clapping Ministry workers towards the security desk. The clapping slowly died down, not so the chatter that Harry Potter was at the Ministry. Of course everyone assumed he was there on some important business: as it was Harry Potter.  
As they walked toward security Harry noticed there was no fountain or statue in the atrium.  
Security was as tight as last time with the same poorly shaven, half awake wizard in his grungy looking peacock-blue robes struggling to focus on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Obviously Eric he had not heard the noise or all the people thronging about Harry as Harry stepped up and said, “Visitor: here on Ministry business.”  
“Step over here,” the wizard muttered. Harry did so and the wizard pulled out the same security wand and waved it about Harry. Of course it did not pick up anything as outfits made by Minchkins the Marvel do not offer up its secrets that easily.  
“Wand.” Muttered the bored guard. Harry handed him Draco’s wand. The guard placed the wand on the brass instrument with one dish and waited for the result. The instrument vibrated and vibrated some more as if it was reading the wand’s life history. The guard gave the instrument a tap to see if that would speed up the process. All he got were more noises more along the line of a wheeze. Then all went silent and a narrow strip of parchment was ejected from the base. The wizard picked it up and read it. Then read it again. Then he flipped it over, just in case there was something there. There was not.  
Slowly and deliberately the wizard said, “Hawthorn 10" long with Unicorn hair. Reasonably springy. Won in combat from Draco Malfoy. Current owner’s possession four weeks.” The security wizard looked up from the paper to study Harry and then back at the parchment. “Is that correct?” he asked.  
“Perfectly,” Harry said with confidence.  
That nugget of information went zooming out from the epicenter, through every Ministry employee down to the lowest elf in ten seconds flat. Now everyone was wondering what happened to Harry’s original Ollivander wand? Eric stuck the parchment on the peg and handed Harry the wand back.  
Aberforth wend through the same process with much less fuss.  
As they passed through security and over to the lifts the throngs of Ministry people were still staying close to see where Harry was going. Finally someone asked the question, “Where are you going?”  
As the elevator doors were closing Harry said, “Courtroom Ten… where else?”  
The elevator went from eight down to nine where everyone got out and allowed Harry to go first. Harry took a few steps then stopped to look about and remember the battle that had took place here all over a prophesy that was for either him or Neville. Funny how a sward has two edges. And this was the place where he lost his godfather. Maybe a place with too many memories so he shook himself and took off heading towards the stairs going down to the courtrooms in basement level ten.  
Of course other elevators were opening and disgorging Ministry workers eager to know where Mr. Potter was going and why down here in the courtrooms.  
Out the elevator and along the corridor with nothing on the walls. Harry strode purposefully forward heading toward the black door at the end. Just before the end, Harry, followed by Aberforth, and then the milling crowds, turned left through and opening and down the stairs along another corridor. This corridor was constructed of rough hewn stone with wrought iron brackets holding flaming torches.  
Harry passed heavy wooden doors now black with years. Each door had heavy black metal hinges, locks that required large mortise keys, large metal ring for opening, and was covered in black metal studs.  
The corridor was designed to be intimidating to the guilty and humbling to the innocent: so long as Professor Umbridge was not in control.  
Harry knew exactly where courtroom ten was. As he got closer to the door, he pulled out his wand and with a quick flick the door opened to allow him to enter without breaking stride.  
This was Harry’s third time to be in courtroom ten. The first time was inside Dumbledore’s pensive. The second time for using magic on a couple of Dementors chasing him and Dudley down an alley near their home on Privet Drive. And now for the third time and the first time without Professor Dumbledore.  
When the door opened and Harry entered courtroom ten, the malignant silence the pervaded the courtroom vanished in an eruption of cheers, yells of congratulations and even the singing of, “For he’s a golly good fellow.” The noisy melee easily overwhelmed the wooden gavel striking the podium. Then came the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes explosions, fireworks, a few anti-Ministerial critters started running about attacking members of the Wizengamot. The disruption continued for a full four minutes. At that point one of the court attendants came back in and told the presiding official, Jennyforcement Gilgail, that people from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were all absent and there are no Aurors anywhere to be found. At the end o the four minutes of rowdy exuberance Harry raised his hand and the celebrations stopped. With a smooth arm-work Harry swooshed off his cape. The move had its desired effect.  
Following Professor Dumbledore’s example, Harry used his wand to provide a more comfortable chair rather then the malevolent chair in the center of the room. The chair with impatient metal chains on the arm rests. Harry’s chair was more civilized and once Harry was sitting down rose to the level of the people seated in the bench above: the benches where the Wizengamot sat. Now Harry could look at them on equal terms.  
Mr. Gilgail spoke first while Harry gazed about noting who was where in the surrounding galleries. Mr. Gilgail did not speak wisely, “This is the Wizengamot and is due the respect it deserves. If the disruption continues I shall have the gallery cleared!” Handclapping immediately started as did the derisory laughter. The combination easily overwhelmed the noise of the gavel.  
Harry let the noise continue for three full minutes, then, again, lifted his hand which created an immediate cessation of noise except for the gavel hammering away on the podium. “I think we should continue, don’t you? Harry said in a laconic tone.  
A frazzled Mr. Gilgail removed his hand from the gavel, pushed his wand deep into his robes, gave a cough and said, “Before we get started on the official charges, I would like to inquire of the defendant about his house-elf who has been seen carrying and using a wand.” Mr. Gilgail’s beady eyes darted about to see if what he said had caused a stir. It had not. From someone at the back came a loud yawn and then silence took over again. Seeing Harry was going to say nothing, Mr. Gilgail added, “Have you nothing to say?”  
Harry let the question hang about for a long moment before saying, “About what?”  
“About what I just said.”  
“Are you charging me with anything specific or not?”  
“I am inquiring.”  
“I did not come here to be questioned about my dead house-elf. I am here in response to two parchments.”  
“Dead, did you say?”  
“Funeral was the other day. I’m sure you can have the Hogwarts house-elves provide testimony.”  
“That’s okay, I suppose. Better move on to the main topic at hand: then.”  
“Right,” Harry responded slowly.  
“Right,” Mr. Gilgail said as he shuffled his papers to find the fat file on item number one. Once found he flipped open the cover and started to review the content. Once digested Mr. Gilgail was ready.  
“Apparition without certification,” Mr. Gilgail boomed. Harry gave him an economical glance. “Now that The Department of Magical Transportation is functioning properly they have had to opportunity to review their records and have noted you have taken several Apparition trips all while not being certified to so do. In light of the records do you, Mr. Potter admit such infractions of the rules and regulations of magical norms and standards?”  
From the very back of the seats surrounding the proceedings came a slight, “Yoo-Hoo.” Mr. Gilgail fired a withering look in the direction of the voice. Once Professor McGonagall stood up his attitude changed. She continued with, “Maybe I can be of some assistance here. As you all well know Hogwarts took the brunt of Lord Voldemort’s attack. Those who were there can attest to the violence and destruction that occurred. Those of you who were there will remember our fellow teachers and pupils whom valiantly fought insurmountable odds and died defending our freedom and rights as wizards and witches to live free of tyranny. Those of you who were there did not have time to offer comfort to the fallen because the enemy was in the very walls of Hogwarts. Those of you who were there will remember how Mrs. Weasley fought the Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange in a fight to the death. And finally, those of you who were there will remember how Mr. Potter, alone, faced Tom Riddle. Without any help or assistance Mr. Potter brought about the death of Riddle. Only those of you who were there will remember the great joy of freedom and the abject sorrow of loosing so many friends, relatives, and school mates.  
“As you can appreciate in the mêlée I misplaced Mr. Potter’s certificate of Apparition.” With that Professor McGonagall pulled out the certificate that was quickly presented to Mr. Gilgail.  
While Mr. Gilgail was reviewing the certificate Professor McGonagall coldly asked, “Were you at Hogwarts during the battle?”  
Mr. Gilgail made a critical mistake by not giving the question his undivided attention. While he was looking at the certificate he absentmindedly said, “No, I was in Iceland.”  
Electricity filled the air as Professor McGonagall said in a piercing voice, “Iceland. What were you doing in Iceland when the call went out to gather at Hogwarts?”  
That was when Mr. Gilgail realized his fatal mistake. “I – I – I was there…”  
“Doing what?”  
Mr. Gilgail scanned the galleries and clearly saw every set of eyes on himself. Then he scanned the Wizengamot and clearly saw every set of eyes gazing elsewhere.  
That is when Professor McGonagall pressed home the advantage with, “I hope you were running to the fight, not away from it. Too many valiant wizards, witches goblins, elves, and the like died to put up with cowards now the fight is won.  
“And you can rest assured that we are in the process of gathering memories of the fighting so we can give credit where credit is due. Our Hagrid, being tall in stature, had a good view of the battle and is lending his memories to our repository. That way false claims can quickly be discounted and the Wizengamot can deal with falsehoods in a prompt and efficient manner. We do not want falsehoods to trump the valiant, brave, stalwart people and creatures of the wizarding world who were there fighting for our very existence and way of life.  
“And if I remember rightly Tom Riddle had said that once Harry Potter was dead he would deal with the Wizengamot in a like manner. Something about stuffy old men without an ounce of magic between them. Full of useless parchments and out-of-date wands. Even though I don’t remember seeing you at Hogwarts I hope you were at your post fighting for Harry Potter and his success.”  
Mr. Gilgail gave the Wizengamot another glance and noticed a bunch of well dressed old men squirming under the heavy burden of not being anywhere near the Battle of Hogwarts despite the clarion call to come and fight.  
“Maybe we should press on,” Mr. Gilgail said as he struggled to claim some semblance of decorum to the proceedings. “Thank you Professor McGonagall for the certificate. It shall be properly filed.”  
“And all charges dropped?” She fired back.  
Flustered Mr. Gilgail said, “Naturally,” In an icy tone. “Now may we progress to the next charge. Did you or did you not discuss magical means and methods with a non-wizard or witch?”  
Since no one answered the charge Aberforth Dumbledore casually said, “I thought the Third Wizard Concordance of 1311 was rescinded in light of the rediscovery of the Lost Thirteen. In particular may I point out that number thirteen said something like, ‘If there is anything truthful, lovely, of good report, praiseworthy, we seek after these things.’”  
“Not in it’s entirety: only certain sections.” Mr. Gilgail retorted.  
“Oh come on,” Aberforth said, “All that remains of the Concordance is the general agreement on the creation of a global wizard language based upon the French language. I don’t hear anyone speaking French: do you?”  
Getting no reply Aberforth pressed on with, “Actually it was the French, during Napoleon’s Egyptian campaign, that discovered the Lost Thirteen in some tomb or other. It is said the Lost Thirteen was written at the Beginning and handed down from the fathers of old. That through unfaithfulness they became lost. Then we lost them again as there was no record of what happened to them once Lord Nelson destroyed the French fleet at Egypt. Fortunately Lord Carnarvon rediscovered and brought the Lost Thirteen to London where they languished until some faithful house-elf released what they were. And the rest is, as they say, history.”  
“Thank you for that historical rendition.” Mr. Gilgail muttered.  
“Not a rendition, a reminder that we are duty bound by the Lost Thirteen to seek knowledge wherever it may be found.” Aberforth replied.  
“May I remind you,” Mr. Gilgail said, “The Lost Thirteen also applies to muggles. I don’t see them searching for the good in anything.”  
“Since there are no muggles here,” Aberforth replied, “I don’t see the efficacy of your statement. I think we should concentrate on the charges as written, as applicable to us wizards.”  
Mr. Gilgail muttered to himself, “Thank you for the first positive statement today.”  
“What did you say,” Aberforth said.  
In a clear voice, the official recorder said, “Mr. Gilgail said, thank you for the first positive statement today.”  
“Thought so.”  
The large wooden door into court ten suddenly burst open and Hagrid came pushing his way in to an already full court. “’Cuse me,” here and “Sorry,” there. Hagrid elbowed his way in. Once shoehorned in Hagrid said, Okay then, carry on.”  
“As I was saying before the interruption,” Aberforth said, “Us wizards are duty bound to find and take in any good thing. If I can learn something good from a goblin I am duty bound to do so. Elves are the cleanest bunch going. Sadly there is many a wizard that lacks their care and dedication to order and cleanliness. Is it wrong to accept help in one area and reject it in another? Have we forgotten our ability to sift the facts and know if it is good or bad? Have we created rules and regulations to take the place of those skills bestowed upon us and handed down from the Beginning? If we loose those skills then we become sad people indeed. I say bravo to Harry for being open to listen and learn. To discern for himself if what was said was for his betterment or detriment. To listen, learn and grow, and yes, to grow even from his mistakes as that is what was known from the Beginning.”  
That was when Mr. Gilgail started using his gavel. “We are not here to discuss the Beginning. We are here to decide if Mr. Potter is guilty of consorting with non-wizards to discuss wizarding means and methods!”  
Calmly Harry asked, “Where is the definition for wizarding means and methods?”  
Mr. Gilgail turned to his assistant and said, “Well, where is it?” In a rather sharp tone. Flustered the assistant started thumbing thought the parchments and other documents assembled for the hearing. The search revealed nothing.  
Seeing they were getting nowhere Harry asked, “Since the entire Wizengamot is here, surely they can provide a proper definition?” The innocent question revealed a deep division in the Wizengamot.  
First to speak was a dumpy, heavily-mustached wizard by the name of Updyke Fordyce. He rose slowly and said, “Gentlemen, I would like to say I applaud Mr. Potter here for realizing that wizards are not the only group that have worthy magical skills. In fact there is much to learn, even from so-called wild animals. I for one have spent long hours studying fairies to learn their language. I feel that Mr. Potter is on the right track and should be encouraged to extend the hand of fellowship and friendship to all and sundry.  
“Now on to the definition of wizarding means and methods. I have studied this topic long and hard and must conclude that there is no hard and fast definition as it is the sum of all wizarding knowledge and understanding, which, I may add, is not all written down. And since it is not all written down can not be defined as such.  
“Furthermore, the repository of knowledge and understanding is not stagnant but continuing to grow and decline based on wizarding diligence and understanding. For example, when Professor Dumbledore passed away, there was a ripple in the repository of knowledge and understanding. His demise caused a shrinkage. Not a huge shrinkage, but a shrinkage nonetheless. Each of us are part of the sum and a loss is still a loss. Now the question is, can the loss to the repository be recovered? I say yes, but only through diligence, study, and applying proper wizarding skills. For example, here we have Mr. Potter. When he defeated Lord Voldemort the repository increased because the negativism Lord Voldemort cast about affected those right minded wizards…”  
“Oh shut up you old windbag,” An elderly witch known as Gerdoditch Testafiah, “Listening to you drivel on and on is worse than eating Garnuts in the springtime. Shut up and sit down and let someone more in tune with real life speak!”  
Updyke Fordyce turned slowly to look at Gerdoditch Testafiah, nodded then said, “Still alive I see. Thought the rumors were true. Pity that. Better luck next time.”  
“You saying it was you who spiked my prune juice?” Gerdoditch Testafiah said in a squeaky voice.  
“Ha… you still drinking that silly prune juice? Thinking it will keep you alive? Let me tell you here and now, your death will be a time to celebrate cleaning out the dead wood from the Wizengamot. You have sat there too long doing absolutely nothing except hogging up space and using up air!”  
Seeing the divisions of old open up yet again, the newly appointed Chief Warlock, Xidi Jabberlock of Dunoon and Largs, stood up and said, “Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, we are not here to argue, we are here to decide on the evidence presented here.” The noise died down but not the looks of antagonism and murder. Several of the Wizengamot were still muttering to themselves and others nearby. In a slightly elevated voice the Chief Warlock asked the fundamental question, “Have you heard enough to make a decision?”  
“Yes!” came the clarion call from the back of the Wizengamot. It was Jedidiah Blazer. Using the chair arm and his walking stick the aged man rose to his feet. “Mr. Potter here represents everything we are against. He consorts with lesser beings, he shares means and methods with lesser mortals, and treats common house-elves as equal! And if this is not enough he has set free the second house-elf. Ladies and gentlemen, we have fought long and hard to preserve the purity of our wizarding community by careful breading and genealogy research to match the best together. This keeps the gene poll in correct balance. Sadly we are facing a rebellion in our very own ranks of the youngsters of today delaying marriage and the subsequent delivery of babies until the family size is diminishing too rapidly.”  
“Get back on the topic you silly old boot!” said someone from the audience  
Jedidiah Blazer glared in the direction of the rude comment. “As far as I am concerned Mr. Potter is guilty as charged. Why are we wasting time fussing about the niceties of sitting here and listening to all this hot air. Guilty as charged!”  
Then a dithering voice came from Yolanda Flashrupun who said, “And what was the charge again?”  
Jedidiah Blazer said in a loud voice, “Just listen to me and say guilty as charged. Then we can all go home.”  
“I think not,” Harry said. “I think you’d better reconsider your position.”  
“You… you little pipsqueak. How dare you question the Wizengamot! How dare you question our understanding of the wizarding laws and ordinances that have been handed down from father to son for many generations. How dare you stand there and question us!”  
Harry calmly said, “I’m not standing, I’m sitting.” That rebuttal brought Harry’s defenders to their feet with a roar of laughter.  
The chief Warlock knew he was facing a rebellion. His appointment was not universally accepted as he came from the Holy Island of Lindisfarne which most wizards had never heard of. Rather than tackle the issue head on he said, “Parlay.”  
Harry had been prepped for this tactic being used. Boldly he said, “I accept on the condition it’s only one on one.”  
The entire Wizengamot rose in uproar. Pointing fingers, gesticulating, throwing scrunched up papers and generally acting as spoilt brats who have had their favorite snack taken away.  
Banging away with his gavel Mr. Gilgail was yelling, “Order! Order!” to no avail. The visitors sat in satisfaction that the shoe was on the other foot for a change. “Order… Order!” was still being yelled out. It took a while for the Wizengamot to realize they were the only ones making the noise and circumspectly sat down.  
Mr. Gilgail glared this way and that as if to dare anyone to make a noise. Pointing his gavel at Harry and then at the Chief Warlock he said, “You two parlay, right now.”  
Harry flicked his wand and down went his chair. The two of them walked out of courtroom ten and over to the empty courtroom nine. They were there for a total of ten minutes before they walked back into courtroom ten where the Chief Warlock handed a scroll to Mr. Gilgail. Mr. Gilgail read it three times then gave the Chief Warlock a dirty look before announcing, “Innocent of all charges.”  
Kingsley Shacklebolt was calmly walking out of the tenth floor, up the stairs and back to the elevators. He wished all small problems were that easily resolved.  
The noise of the result spread faster than Angel-Fire throughout the ministry building. As Harry walked up to the ninth floor the cheers and yells were deafening. Harry took a lap of honor making sure to recognize all he knew either by sight or by reputation. The constant flash of cameras made it tough to see all the people. As planned, this was to showcase Harry was alive fighting for the small man while Tom was dead and gone.  
Rather than take the elevators Harry chose to use the stairs to go from nine to eight. That way more people could gather and make a resounding noise. On entering the atrium the empty spot where the Fountain of Magical Brethren had stood, where the Magic is Might monument had stood, there for all to see was a larger than life statue of Harry Potter. Harry had one foot resting on the chest of the dead Tom Riddle while pointing into the air with the Wand of Destiny. Surrounding the statue was a pond with several bubbling fountains.  
Aberforth slid along side Harry and quietly said, “I think our splash has been a mite too big. Time to find quiet quarters.”  
As they walked through the throngs of well wishers Harry noticed one or two young men sporting cloaks remarkably similar to the one Minchkins had made for Harry.  
It was then Hagrid whacked Harry on the back and said, “Well done. Showed them lot not to mess wi’ a Hogwarts Professor.” Then nodding to Aberforth he added, “Good to see you Mr. Dumbledore, hope to drop by tonight. Bit low on food. If you know what I mean.”  
Aberforth did as Hagrid ate so much but only paid for one place at the table. Aberforth nodded and said, “I think we can handle it.”  
Turning to Harry, Hagrid said, “You be there?”  
“Don’t see why not.”  
“Good,” beamed Hagrid. “Make a party of it, then!” Hagrid took off to the Floo network twiddling his wand. Being an official graduate of Hogwarts had changed Hagrid. He was much more confident, more sure of himself and loved using all the magical spells he was not supposed to know or use. Hagrid was like a small boy let loose in a sweet shop: and wasn’t interested in leaving.  
In rapid succession that Harry was accosted by six smooches. How the owls got in to the Ministry of Magic building was never discovered. Harry knew he had overstayed his welcome even though the throngs had not died down. Or was it because it was lunch time. Aberforth and Harry made their way over to the telephone booth and exited that way back up to the streets of a muggle London.  
Aberforth quickly scanned the area and said to Harry, “You stay here a minute. Let me clear the path.” Aberforth had noticed several loitering owls in the immediate area. Making sure there were no muggles about Aberforth pulled out a muggle sling shot and muggle exploding caps. Deftly Aberforth aimed and cleared away the owls. They were not expecting a muggle attack and retreated quickly.  
Harry stepped out of the phone box and said, “Guess that won’t show up on any Magical radar.”  
“We have to be adaptable to use the right tool at the right time to realize the right effect. I think I did rather well and avoided using spells where muggles are known to frequent.”  
Harry smiled and added, “We can learn from anyone, including muggles.”  
“Glad you were listening.” Aberforth added as they headed back to Grimmauld Place.  
It was early evening when the gathering took place. All the remaining Hogwarts teachers were in attendance. Aberforth put on a resplendent meal that even satisfied Hagrid. To round out the meal Aberforth brought out apple crumble, double Devon cream and a selection of rock cakes.  
“The best,” Hagrid said as he set his teeth into yet another rock cake. He was going through them faster than a knife through butter. Fortunately Aberforth had laid in a good supply: he knew his customers too well.  
Professor McGonagall leaned forward to have her last bite of apple crumble and cream, and then said, “If I may be so bold, you could consider the Sturgeon Creamery of Kilmarnock as another source of double cream.”  
“Yes, I have talked to Nicky at the creamery,” Aberforth said, “She says we are a bit too far for her delivery rounds.” Aberforth reached for one last scoop of crumble to mix with the remaining cream. He added, “There’s the Love Dairy on the outskirts of Glasgow that’s closer and seems to have the means of supporting both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts.” After polishing off the last of the desert Aberforth added, “And, I hear, the three Love girls have put in their applications to attend Hogwarts this autumn.”  
“Along with quite a few other young girls.” Professor McGonagall said. “Seems our Professor Potter has created quite a stir amongst the younger set. And just the other day we had several enquiries from French families about my rates.”  
“Could we be getting French pupils?” Aberforth quickly asked. His French culinary skills were not that great since there is not much call for it in Hogsmeade.  
“I think it’s a flash in the pan,” said Professor McGonagall, “Seems Bill and Fleur Weasley have been talking to family members about impending changes at Hogwarts. And that family members might consider transferring from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts.”  
“No, not regular families, I’m thinking about pure blood French families like Villefort, Caderousse, Danglars, and Mondego. Better still like Morrel and Pari Roubaix.”  
“Ah yes, the legendary story of Maximilian Morrel and his fiancée.” Professor Babbitt said reflectively. “One of the saddest yet happiest stories going.”  
“Don’t know French,” Hagrid said. “Rightly don’t know English too well either. Do know ‘ow to talk to Centaur’s and get along right fine with spiders. Not so good with Bygars. They get a bit upset when not fed.”  
Thinking about the future Harry glanced up from his third bowl of apple crumble and cream to ask, What do Bygars eat?”  
“Bugs mainly. Small bugs. Like small rolly-polly bugs.”  
“Not at the dinner table Hagrid,” Aberforth said gently. He had not been paid and did not want to upset his guests.  
“Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away. Don’t you worry about Bygars. They won’t bother with you. Jus’ look out for flying Bygots. They attack in packs like the Vashta Nerada: but different.”  
“So long as you are with me, I’ll be okay.” Harry said in a confident tone. Harry didn’t see Hagrid’s concerned look on his face as Hagrid tucked in to the last of the crumble and cream.  
That night Harry carefully folded up the cape, suit, and shirt. Along with the shoes all were placed safely away in the small portmanteau Minchkins provided. This was the first nice clothing Harry had ever owned. It felt good being well dressed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Wednesday May 13, 1998**  
**Thursday May 14, 1998**  
**Friday May 15, 1998**

 

  
Forasmuch as there is great noise in the city [of London]  
caused by the game of Quidditch,  
from which many evils may arise,  
which God forbid,  
we command and forbid on behalf of the King,  
on pain of imprisonment,  
such game to be played in the city in future.

Proclamation of Edward II, banning Quidditch from the streets of London, 1314.

 

Aberforth Let Harry sleep in. Yesterday was a full day while today was wide open for anything. When Harry came down he was already dressed and ready to go.  
“What? No breakfast?” Aberforth said from the kitchen. Harry could hear and smell the sizzle of bacon.  
“Don’t think so. Still working on last night’s meal.”  
“Then you’d be off then to Hogwarts.”  
“Yep.” Harry said from the kitchen door. “Just want to say thanks for all you did for me. That was pretty special.”  
“Then you won’t be interested in the Daily Prophet calling for you to be appointed Minister for Magic… would you?” Aberforth said pointing to the paper lying on the kitchen table. On the front page was a glorious colour photograph or Harry walking past his own statue in the Ministry. Harry grabbed the paper and started reading. First thing he noted was the author: was none other than Rita Skeeter. As Harry read his temperature went sky high. He grabbed a bit of bacon and started chewing on it hard. What he read he did not like. Rita was pushing hard for Kingsley Shacklebolt to step aside as Minister of Magic and let Harry assume that position because Kingsley represents the old failed guard while Harry is the future of the wizarding world.  
“What the hell is she playing,” Harry muttered a bit too loud. He quickly added, “Excuse my French.”  
“You’re excused. And what she is playing is called column inches. The more column inches she writes, the more money she gets. And if people actually read what she writes, then she becomes more and more popular which sells papers. And guess what? The Daily Prophet is a newspaper wanting to make money. Get it?”  
Harry was just getting ready to kick a chair or two in frustration when the door flew open and in walked Ginny. “Hi sparky, so you want to be Minister of Magic do you?”  
“Hello Ginny,” Harry said with a huge smile on his face. Then he added, “Hell no I don’t. That’s so stupid… all down to that Rita. Always making trouble.”  
“No, she’s always writing about you. I was beginning to wonder about you two.” She gave Harry a peck on the cheek. Harry went bright red since they were out on public.  
“How come you are here?”  
“Dad read The Daily Prophet and said you are going to need help then he took off early so meet with Kingsley to work on a plan. Dad saying this is serious stuff. So he said I’d better get over to help you out. He said for you to get used to it all as it won’t be going away any time soon.”  
“That’s what I mean,” chimed in Aberforth. “You killed the worst wizard in living memory, but by doing that you set your self up for the future. And your future is being dictated by Rita, with her statue of you, and here eating breakfast, not over at the ministry finding out who allowed that statue to be placed there at the same time you were in courtroom ten?  
“If there is one thing worse that Riddle it’s politics. And you Harry have walked into the biggest hornets nest of politics that will make Riddle seem like a school kid.”  
“What! Rita was behind the statue?”  
“If you stop fussing and get reading you will see she had it erected after going about the ministry asking for contributions. Of course, everyone was willing to toss in a few coins. Mean to say, who wouldn’t. Then up it went while you were in the courtroom. Almost as if Rita knew the outcome and had her plans ready.”  
Harry really could not believe his ears and out spluttered, “There is no way she knew… I was lucky… Kingsley Shacklebolt helped…”  
“Harry, listen to me. I might be old and living in Hogsmeade, but there is a good line between here and the ministry. Believe me when I say Rita has you in her crosshairs. Always has and always will. She is a lot smarter than Tom ever was because, ‘the pen is mightier than the wand’”.  
Harry was on his feet pacing this way and that. Running his hands through his hair in despair. Punching the air in despondency. Now realizing how simple Tom made things. Finally Harry pulled himself together and asked, “Okay, what do you suggest?”  
“Take care of Hogwarts first,” Ginny said with Aberforth nodding in agreement. “Dad said you agreed to take care of the spells and doing so is first on the list.”  
Nodding, Harry said, “Great, fine. Then let’s go.”  
“Hay, wait a minute, “Ginny said quickly, “I haven’t had breakfast. Dad dropped me off and I’m starving. Aberforth, what are you cooking back there?”  
“Just the usual.”  
“Then two plates of the usual and then we will be on our way to Hogwarts.”  
“Oh yes, talking about Hogwarts,” Aberforth said, “Have a scroll here for you. Professor McGonagall dropped it off this morning on her way out of town. Harry unrolled it and read the contents out loud.

_Dear Professor Potter:_

  
_Because of the excellent work the house-elves have been doing, I have allowed the rest of the staff to leave early for their holidays. All that remains is Mr. Filch and a few house-elves as all the others are back with their families. Of course Professor Hagrid will be attending to the animals as needed and Professor Sprout will pop back from time to time to attend her plants as needed._   
_Please give Mr. Filch the respect he deserves as it is his responsibility ensuring Hogwarts is ready for the Autumn term which starts September 1._   
_Once you have removed the spells let Mr. Filch know as he as other work to do and is waiting on your successful outcome._   
_If you need to communicate, use a Hogwarts owl. They know where I am at all times._

_Yours,_

_Professor McGonagall_

“Lot of trust she is putting in you,” Aberforth said placing two good breakfast plates in front of Ginny and Harry. Ginny dove in while Harry picked and pecked but in the end he polished off his plate.  
Once breakfast was finished Harry and Ginny took off towards Hogwarts, a very quiet Hogwarts.  
As they walked Ginny said, “You handled yourself pretty good yesterday. You didn’t blow up once. That was good. And your suit was stunning. Like I’ve never seen you all dressed properly. You looked good, I mean really good.”  
“You think so?”  
“Don’t push it Sparky. One complement a day for you. No, really, you did fine. Aberforth’s plan went along just fine.”  
“It did. Glad he’s not like Professor Dumbledore. Aberforth talks. Actually he rambles on a bit.”  
“I think he likes the company. Look who he serves all day long.”  
“Yeh, people who go to the Hog’s Head Inn aren’t your normal fair. Just the other day… Maybe later.”  
“No, go on.” Ginny probed.  
“Going to say just the other day Aberforth and I were talking when someone cut in like it was okay. Aberforth quickly put him in his place. How he did it was his not his brother’s way. Sometimes I forget they are different.”  
“They do look similar.”  
“All hair and beards. That’s what does it.”  
“Hope you don’t go that way.”  
“Nope, I shall always be clean shaven. Glad Ron gave me a Wilkenswore PII+. It’s great!” Seeing Ginny look a bit down Harry quietly asked, “No news?”  
Ginny shook he head then added, “Ron is not the greatest writer. Mum is ready to clobber him on sight. One owl is not enough.”  
“Have you sent anything?”  
“Mum says not to. Mum says Hermione has a load on her plate and we should give her time. Dad is trying to be good by saying, ‘no news is good news.’ It really doesn’t help.”  
“Not really.” Was all Harry could think of saying. Then he added, “Maybe we should do something.”  
Ginny smiled at him, gave his arm a good squeeze and said, “I’d like that.”  
As they got closer Harry could see someone sitting on the steps outside Hogwarts great oak doors. As soon as they got within range Luna got up waved and said in her usual matter-of-face voice, “Hi Harry. Got your message Ginny. I think we’re all here.”  
During the walk to Hogwarts Ginny filled Harry in on the plan. DA’s was going to support Harry remove the spells so he could spend the rest of summer concentrating on his good name and reputation. At first Harry was upset that Ginny had done this without first consulting him. Slowly he realized fighting Rita Skeeter was worse than fighting an octopus: and she was more skillful. Harry needed help and fast or else Rita would have dictated the outcome before anyone realized the end had happened.  
“I thought the battle was pretty bad. Now I’m beginning to see Rita in her true colours I’m wondering if her type of fighting is worse than Riddle’s?” Ginny mused to Harry.  
“Yeh, she hides behind her press badge pretty well.” Harry replied.  
“So, how do you get a press pass?” Ginny asked. As she did a look of interest spread across her face.  
“Don’t know. The ministry I suppose.”  
“Yes, the ministry. And who is going to be the next leader of the ministry? You are!” Ginny said answering her own question.  
“Hang on a minute. There is no way I am ever going to be Minister of Magic. No way, no how, no not ever!”  
“Okay, I get the message,” Ginny said calmly. “If you don’t want the job, but does that open the door for the real person Rita wants to get into that position?”  
“What? Another Tom Riddle type person?” Harry’s interest was entirely on Ginny.  
“If Riddle had lived, she would be another pawn in his game. She would report what he wanted and lived very well. Look how well her book on Professor Dumbledore is doing. Selling has picked up as people are telling others how bad Dumbledore was.  
“She is good, really good. She knows all about timing and creating interest. I’d expect she is working on a Harry Potter book. I’d call it The Boy who Killed Lord Voldemort & Become Minister of Magic. Either let her win or get a book out first.  
“That’s why I’ve got the DA’s back together. We need to put out heads together and work out a plan, a good plan.”  
“How many?” Ginny asked Luna as they walked back into Hogwarts.  
“Oh, pretty much most of them. I’ve limited the call to only those that fought in the battle. I’d trust them with my life. Actually I did just the other day.”  
The minute they stepped back inside Hogwarts Harry let out a huge “Bloody hell! What have you lot done?”  
“Hay Harry,” Neville yelled from the top corridor. “Watch this!” With that Neville took off on a zip line that went from the top corridor round and round all the way down to where Harry and the others were standing. Neville zipped along at an alarming speed with legs almost horizontally out. He hit the ground did several forward tumbles with the last one putting him on his feet with wand out and ready for action.  
Then Harry noticed light elevators and people jumping off balconies and skillfully landing on their feet ready for whatever faced them. Others were firing hexes and jinxes at a group well protected behind a screen of spells. This was the DA’s like Harry had never seen before.  
“Not bad Eh!” Neville said. “Now we have a real chance to practice stuff without teachers about.” Harry looked at Neville and pointed to himself. Calmly Neville added, “Ah, you don’t count. Like you keep saying, you haven’t made up your mind yet.”  
“What if I do?”  
“Then we better clean up and get out.”  
“Hang on a moment, where’s Mr. Filch and his cat?”  
“Ah,” Neville said to kill time. “Ah, that was me I think. Said you said he could leave as you would cover for him until all spells are cleared away. Then you’d send an owl to let him know it was time to come back. Said you needed a clear field to do your stuff.”  
“Clear field!” Spluttered Harry. “Clear field!” After he looked about yet again Harry added, “You lot are absolutely nuts!” Then a penny dropped and he asked, “So you are saying we are here alone in Hogwarts with only a few house-elves to worry about?”  
“Ah, not quite.”  
“Okay, which part is ‘not quite’?” Harry had to ask fearing the worst. Neville was too cleaver for his own good.  
“The part about a few house-elves still here. Said they could go home as we could handle food from Hogsmeade.”  
“Gossiter, are you there?” Harry yelled out. In a flash, young Gossiter appeared right in their midst.  
“Hi Gossiter. Can I ask you a question?”  
“Oh, Master Harry. I shall do everything I can to answer your question.”  
“Okay. Who is here at Hogwarts besides this lot and you?”  
“Alive people or dead people?”  
Let’s go for both.”  
“I shall need five minutes to look and then I shall return with an accurate count.”  
“Thank you Gossiter.” Harry said and then Gossiter disappeared in a flash. Turning to Neville, “Did you expect Gossiter to leave since he knew I’d be coming here?”  
“Okay, maybe we are off by one. But no more than one.”  
“No problem.” Harry said, “While Gossiter is out counting fill me in on what you are doing. This looks good, really good.”  
Neville, and the rest of the DA’s all chipped in as they sat around one table in the great hall. Sitting there were, Alicia Spinnet, Ginny and George Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Dean Thomas, Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Anthony Goldstein, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood, Michael Corner, Padma Patil, Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones. George seemed a little too preoccupied with Angelina but Harry let it pass. Harry sat back and listened to his friends and basked in their mutual friendship.  
“It’s like this,” Neville started with, “After the battle a few of us, okay, most of us got back together to talk through what happened, how the attack unfolded, and the strategy used by both sides.  
“We combined our memories so we could go through them again and again. You can see a lot more when it is all going at a slow speed. The sad part is we see what really happened and can’t do anything to stop it. Hard that.  
“On the defending side we had the teachers, us DA’s and the Order of the Phoenix. Later on the house-elves joined in. On the attacking side we had Tom, his Death Eaters, giants, spiders, werewolves and others.  
“As good as the teachers are, they aren’t up on the latest spells. Not their job. They don’t know or practice the dark spells like Riddle uses. Also their first priority was to protect the kids by getting them out of harm’s way.  
“Riddle didn’t care who got in his way or how he did it. Smashing Hogwarts and losing people like Snape was collateral damage he was happy to pay. He was willing to sacrifice everything to kill you and crush any rebellion against the dark side.” Neville paused there to let Harry take it all in. Neville had had many a long discussion with other DA’s on the battle.  
Then Neville continued with, “See the difference? Like night and day. You could almost boil it down to the difference between right and wrong. Simple but incisive and you can easily know if it is true. Remember we all know how to judge. Do that and everything becomes crystal clear.  
“That’s a quick summary of the past. What we are doing it learning spells that could have made a difference. Some have been raiding their parents’ old school books for spells not taught today. Like Filch keeps saying, ‘ Things were better back in the old days’. Well, so were the spells. Back in the day the students were taught some of the, how should I put it, more interesting spells. Stuff we didn’t do today. Stuff that could have made a difference. Okay, maybe not against Voldemort, definitely against the Death Eaters and spiders. Seems spiders were a problem back in the old days.  
“Since we have some time on our hands, and since, technically Hogwarts is still in session, and since you are here alone, we thought we’d come and do some learning and help you out.”  
Harry beamed at their enthusiasm and dedication. He could relate to the lot of them. Then added, “Neville, what a load of tosh: but I like it!” The roar of laughter was loud and long while Neville went bright red.  
“You keep working on your stuff: it’s important… it’s good. But I need some help on my stuff.” The mood suddenly changed. “I need help getting rid of spells still here on the building itself. I’m guessing they came from Riddle during the battle. I mean, no one else has that sort of power to place a spell that lasts so long. So the deal is this. When I walk up the stairs and run my fingers close to the walls without touching the walls I can feel the spells. I want all of us to go up the stairs, one at a time, to see if any of you can feel something odd, strange, out of the ordinary, or not.” Harry looked about at then said, “Okay, you lot follow me and lets see what happens.”  
Harry got up and everyone filed out to the bottom of the stairs. Once lined up Gossiter appeared. “Ah, Master Potter, It is indeed as you thought. No teachers, except for yourself. The DA’s. No elves, except for me. No Goblins or any like that. Only the usual house ghosts wandering about. Other than that, we are alone at Hogwarts.” A chill ran up and down Harry’s spine. He was thinking this could be the first time there has been this few in the building.  
“Right then,” said Harry, “We’d better get going and see what happens.” With that Harry took off up the stairs to where the walls were than then started running his fingers along the walls without actually touching the walls. Harry went first then Ginny, followed by George Angelina, Gossiter and the others.  
Again Harry started to feel the spells and words formed in his mind, Parseltongue words that felt as though they were old, very old. Harry went this way and that to make sure he got a good feel that the spells and words were really there. Harry stopped on one of the higher corridors the turned and faced the others as they worked their way up the stairs and joined him. “Well? Did any of you feel anything?”  
No one moved. Everyone had a pensive look on their face. No one wanted to be first. That was when Luna put up her hand and said, “I could feel it. Pretty simple really. And I could hear the words.”  
“You a Parselmouth?” Harry said in surprise.  
“Not really. Mum taught me some words so we could chat without dad knowing what we were talking about.”  
“How good are you?”  
“Don’t know really. No one to talk to since mum died.”  
“Okay,” Harry said, “Who else?”  
Slowly the Patil twins put their hands up while glancing at each other. In unison they said, “We felt the spells,”  
Padma added, “Felt creepy. Worse than putting your fingers in cold water.”  
“It felt cold?” Harry asked.  
“Cold and creepy.” Parvati added, “Like someone is trying to pull something out of you.” Nodding Luna agreed  
“Okay… good. Anyone else?”  
Thoughtfully Cho Chang put her hand up. “I did, I think. It was weird. I didn’t like it so I pulled my hand away.”  
“Okay,” Harry said as he moved to the wall. “Come over here and show me.”  
Reluctantly Cho walked to the wall and did a large figure eight by the wall. Harry followed as best he could. “What did you feel?” Harry asked.  
Cho drew in a large breadth and blew it all out in one long exhale. Looking Harry right in the eyes she said, “Feels like putting your fingers in a dead body. Cold and nasty. Like the spell is trying to pull you into the wall to eat you up.”  
Harry blinked at Cho’s description. Quickly thinking about it Harry realized she was right. It did feel like that. “What about the words?” Harry probed.  
“No words, no sounds, just a very nasty feeling about this Harry.”  
“Right… “Harry said very slowly. “Look, none of you are students any more. I’m sort of a teacher here and was asked to get rid of the spells. If anyone wants to leave, they can. No obligation for anyone to stay.”  
Ginny moved beside Harry and put her hand in his and gave his a squeeze. “I’m staying,” she said in a very firm tone. Harry looked about and could see every head nodding in agreement.  
Dean chipped in with, “Look Harry, we may not be students here, but we want this place to be here for our kids… when they happen.”  
Neville added, “We’re in and don’t try and kick us out.”  
Looking about Harry could see every head nodding in agreement. The DA’s were voting as a block by staying. Harry had to smile, he knew he could trust the DA’s. “Okay then. This is the plan. The Patil twins with two others start off in the dungeons and see how strong or not the spell is down there.” Seeing the look on their face Harry added, “Gossiter will go with you, just in case.” Turning to Gossiter Harry asked, “Can you do that?”  
“For Master Potter I can do that.” Was the sure reply.  
“Good. Note everything so we can put it into a map of the place. Luna, myself and two others will start up at the top of the building and work our way down. We will be doing the same as the Patil girls. I need two others to head off to the library and search for anything on Parseltongue. Anything at all. Even all the silly stuff. If you find nothing that’s okay, just do your best. And that includes the restricted section!” A big yell went up as most had never been to the restricted section of the library. “And I need another group to go to the library and look up all detection spells. I’m expecting someone to try and sneak in. Actually I’m thinking Rita Skeeter might try it. So I’m looking for a spell that can circle Hogwarts going out a mile or so. Something that detects what is going on out there.”  
“Like Hermione and her DA sneak spell?” Dean asked.  
“Exactly! Something like that.” Harry replied excitedly. He could see the thought catching on. “Oh, and don’t forget Rita is an Animagus. Check for Animagus detection spells.  
“And Cho with the rest go to every spire in the place. Check out if the spells are there. In the Owlery see how many Hogwarts owls we have. Someone might try and sneak an owl in that way.  
“Okay then, any questions? Clear as mud?” Since no one replied, Harry concluded with, “Let’s get going.”  
With a plan in hand everyone split up heading off to take care of business. The day was long and hard as the task was without boundaries. No one shirked, no one fussed, no one complained as everyone knew what they signed up for. It was about six in the evening that Harry rolled his coin to call it quits and gather in the great hall.  
Rather than sit about the four trestle tables someone had moved them aside and had easy chairs around the roaring fire that kept off the autumn chills even though it was summer in Scotland.  
Gossiter had left the Patil girls early so he could have a good meal ready for everyone. Since he was alone it took a little longer than usual. Once he brought it out it disappeared at an alarming rate as everyone was so hungry. The chit chat was light as there was no exams, no studying, no Filch and his cat to worry about.  
Hannah Abbott, who was sitting between Terry Boot and Ernie Macmillan said, “Gossiter, that was excellent. Thank you. And the desert was just heavenly.”  
“That was Master Potter’s favorite. But the cream is muggle cream. Seems us house-elves haven’t got it quite right. So we follow Master Potter’s recommendation and buy the double Devon cream from a shop as we are not allowed to do magic when muggles are about.”  
“What do you mean?” asked Lee Jordan, “You just walk into a corner shop, pick up a couple jars of double Devon Cream, pay using muggle money and walk out without anyone saying a thing?”  
Gossiter looked at Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders and said, “Pretty much.”  
“No way is anyone going to serve a house-elf in a corner shop without making a fuss.” Lavender Brown chipped in.  
Okay, what are we missing?” Neville said as he could see something was missing.  
“The court case.” Harry said in a deadpan voice. “Discussing means and methods with non-wizards. Once we start talking all of you could go through that. I won, you may not. Your court date may be soon or they may hold it for a later date when it could be used as leverage.” Harry looked about the room making eye contact with every DA present. “That is why I wanted only those DA’s who fought in the battle. I trust all of you with my life. I did it once before and Neville here pulled the sward out of the hat. Next time it might be any one of you.”  
“Next time?” Lavender Brown said in a tone laced with surprise.  
“Yeh, next time. Now the ministry is back, the old ways are returning. Why do you think I got two scrolls? Or the next time it might be one of you. That’s why we have to be involved. Not trouble-makers… no, just involved by knowing what is going on and be part of the process.  
“Going back to Gossiter. He is one cool house-elf. Are you in or out of this discussion? Think carefully as this could be one of those things that never goes away.”  
“The Lost Thirteen?” Neville asked.  
“Yep, that is how I won.” Harry replied.  
“Not to up on it.” Neville said ruefully.  
“Not well taught here. I guess its discovery is too new and we’re stuck in the past.” Harry muttered.  
“I read about it a while ago, “Ginny said, “but it didn’t register and then I forgot it until Harry was in court.”  
“See,” Harry said with added emphasis, “That is what I mean. We need to know what is going on and make sure things like that aren’t brushed under the carpet and forgotten.” Ginny snuggled up to Harry so he absentmindedly put his arm about her. “The Lost Thirteen is not going over too well with the ministry. They don’t like it because it’s ancient and clashes with modern wizard ways. That’s why the Ministry and the Wizengamot don’t know what to do about the Lost Thirteen, so they sit on it rather than face it.”  
“If it is there,” Neville said openly, “Can’t we use it in our defense?”  
“You can,” Harry said carefully, “So long as people acknowledge it exists and is of a superior nature when compared with the junk coming out of the Ministry and the Wizengamot.” Then Harry added, “Things change about here. Look at everything we’ve been through when where supposed to be safe at Hogwarts. Look at me. I started off just like you at age eleven. I wasn’t planning on meeting Riddle every year. I was just glad to get away from a rotten home and be with you lot. See: things aren’t planned too well.”  
“So how did you find out about the Lost Thirteen?” Cho asked.  
“Aberforth had a copy as did every teacher at Hogwarts. I found Professor Snape’s copy in his desk.”  
“You been in Snape’s office?” Terry Boot said in awe.  
“Yeh, It’s now my office.”  
“Wow,” Terry Boot said. “What’s it like?”  
“If you want I’d give you a tour.”  
“Ahhh, maybe not just yet. I’d let you make sure there is nothing there before I’d go in.”  
“Okay, let’s get down to business. Starting in the dungeons and going up.”  
The reports were given, each one in sufficient detail to give everyone present a clear picture of the spells and how they were gripping the school building.  
Once the last report was in it seemed the spells were pretty uniform throughout the building. No obvious weak points. They were more successful in the library. The group looking of Parseltongue words found a few nursery rhymes with Parseltongue endings to scare the children into being good… or else! The problem being Luna and Harry had never seen Parseltongue words written down: so they weren’t sure if what they had was real Parseltongue words. And then there was the one book found at the back of the restricted area. A place where the dust is the thickest, where the spiders are the biggest, and where only the brave and foolhardy go. Luna used her long forgotten Parseltongue words which caused movement at the back. That was enough to send a couple DA’s scurrying out of the restricted area. Not Luna. She reached in and pulled out this dusty, bedraggled, bent-corner, remnant of a book. She thought it might be interesting to bring along anyway. As Harry flipped the pages with the end of his wand, he instantly knew there was something Parseltongue about the book.  
The other group in the library was equally successful in finding some very interesting spells. It was Susan Bones who spoke first, “How come they never taught all this stuff at school. I mean to say, this is good stuff and I could have used it a bunch of times at home to know when someone was heading my way.”  
Ernie Macmillan added with, “Yeh, this is good stuff and ones that should be used as detection spells about Hogwarts.”  
“Okay, what are they?” Harry asked,  
Hannah Abbott said, “The first one we found is an old owl spell, Septum Seakium. You use it on owls and they head out scanning the area from the sky. Since they have good eyes they report back anything unusual. The other owl spell is Nixium O’sistus. This is a good one Harry. Since Rita Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus you say Nixium O’sistus Beetle. The owls are now on the lookout for an Animagus beetle and only an Animagus beetle.”  
Harry was impressed, he had never thought of using the Hogwarts owls as lookouts. That is why he needed the other DA’s on this endeavor.  
“The other spells are like the teachers used during the battle. Stuff like Gexlorde Global, Fordus Glexodious, the common Ground Mole Hex, reusing the Caterwauling Charm, and two from Mundungus: he is good for something.”  
Then Gossiter added, “I have been in contact with certain forest dwellers and they are very amenable to be on the lookout for strangers. And, I might add, eager for the Anglia to be gone soon. Seems it is liking muddy up-hill challenges.”  
“Thank you Gossiter, that was good thinking.” Then Harry turned to the others and said, “Time to put the protection on Hogwarts. I want us to be safe from prying eyes.” With that everyone, including Gossiter walked outside and started casting spells. As the spells went out the sky took on a faint opaque tinge. Harry could see all about that there was a uniform protective shield protecting Hogwarts. Maybe not as good as the regular professors could do, but, hopefully, good enough to alert the DA’s to incoming persons. Once done, Harry checked the time and reluctantly said, “Okay everyone, time for bed as we will have a full day tomorrow.”  
With that they started to drift off in various directions. The boys gravitated to the Gryffindor tower while the girls wandered to the Ravenclaw tower.  
Since Harry had all the boys together, scattered about the fire, Harry thought it was a good time to ask, “What do you lot know about Harveture?”  
“Hang on a moment,” Lee Jordan said, “You never said how Gossiter can walk in to a muggle shop and buy cream and no one says anything. That’s a bit thick to take.”  
Looking about the room Harry could see answering this question came first. “Remember what I said about means and methods? Well that’s what we’re going to talk about: but only a little. Even a little can get you lot into trouble with the ministry. Got it?” Everyone nodded as everyone was interested as no one had ever thought about house-elves as anything else but servants.  
“If you remember your first year history classes we read a little about the Beginning and what we promised to do and how we were going to do it. About how we were going to act rather than be acted upon. Remember?” Seeing blank looks Harry added, “Trust me, I forgot to and had to go back to old Bagshott’s book and do some re-reading. Trust me.”  
“Harry, you slept through every history class, I wouldn’t trust you even if you were the last wizard alive!” Said Cho to hearty laughter.  
Harry put up his hand and said, “You’re right, history was boring, not now. I didn’t grow up wizard, I wasn’t taught the higher values that go along with the Beginning or the Lost Thirteen. I was whacked about the ear if I got out of line and whacked if I said a word. So, growing up, less was better. That is why I’ve been spending some time up in the library reading up on the Beginning and finding out all of us were there: including house-elves.”  
Terry Boot agreed with, “That’s what me mammy says but pa says its all hogwash. He says only witches and wizards were allowed in at the Beginning.”  
“See, that is why we need to get it straight. From what I read everyone was at the Beginning and all were allowed to vote in their respective group. Each group was given certain skills and attributes not shared amongst every group. That is where ‘means and methods’ come in. Wizarding means and methods are different from house-elf means and methods… and we don’t share. Not sharing is carefully enforced by the Ministry and the Wizengamot. But the Lost Thirteen says differently. Because of the Lost Thirteen we can talk to Gossiter, and any other house-elf about things. Trouble is house-elves, along with every other group, is scared to share with any other group. That fear has been ground into every group by tight fisted people hell bend on keeping power over the others in their group.”  
“Just like Ministry and the Wizengamot?” Said Terry Boot.  
“That’s right. They don’t want us learning and sharing. If we do we end up at Azcaban. That’s why the Lost Thirteen are so important.”  
“So how does he do it?” Lee Jordan asked.  
“Seems to be simple to house-elves. They have magic that is different to ours. They can apparate where we can’t and they can cast a shadow over a group of muggles so they can interact with muggles as if they were muggles. But their real powers lie in the ability to work hard and be loyal. So their magic supports those activities as that was given to them in the Beginning.”  
“So our magic is to help us?” Asked Terry Boot.  
“Help us do the best we can just like house-elves have magic do help them do the best they can.”  
“Wow, didn’t know that.”  
“And that is just the beginning. Ever wondered how house-elves can cook and clean Hogwarts so quickly after we make it a mess? That’s their specialty: service.”  
“What’s ours?” asked Katie Bell.  
“What’s our specialty?” asked Harry.  
“Yeh, what’s out specialty?” Katy said.  
“Don’t know really.” Then Harry added, “Really, I’d like to stay out of trouble for a change.”  
That is when George Weasley joined the conversation. “Don’t you remember your school stuff? Or did you sleep through every history class? We are here to have joy. Not the trivial joy that comes and goes…”  
“Like your shop!” Lee Jordan said quickly to raucous laughter.  
“The shop is fun bun not the real joy we are supposed to have. The real joy I’m talking about is when Fred was here. Even though he was a disaster and a total menace to Hogwarts, he was my brother. That’s the real joy we are here to have, the joy of the family.” Harry looked about as heads were nodding in agreement. It was then he realized how important the Dursley’s were even though they were a menace to his life and wellbeing.  
“I’m off to bed. Going to be a busy one tomorrow.” George Weasley added as he got up and started up the stairs to his bed. Others slowly got up and headed in that general direction. The day had been long and arduous with tomorrow looking every bit as busy.  
When Harry was half way asleep he realized they had not talked about Harveture. Then he rolled over and was asleep in two seconds.

Thursday May 14, 1998  
The morning started early at six thirty with Gossiter letting everyone know breakfast was hot and ready downstairs in the great hall. Since it was not school time the team was slow getting everything together and down for breakfast. The last girl, Cho Chang was right behind the last boy, Dean Thomas who appeared at five-to-seven.  
It was seven-thirty when everyone was fed, satisfied, and ready to get back to work. The two groups in the library were going back again for more searching. The three groups who were following the spells on the walls were going to create a 3D model of Hogwarts showing spell strengths and how they walked through the place. The goal being to make sure every part of the building was covered and revisit any place missed.  
The 3D model was a challenge as none of them had any experience in wizard engineering or design work. As they tried to create a model of Hogwarts several felt Hogwarts fighting back as if it didn’t want to be mapped, documented, listed or dissected into neat drawings.  
The 3D model would be there and not be there. Stairs would appear then disappear. Doors and archways came and went. It was as if the Hogwarts itself could communicate with the model and disrupt its creation. The 3D model came and went most of the day as Neville struggled to put it together. The fight continued until Harry walked over to a wall and started talking to the bricks. Obviously no one could hear what Harry was saying but everyone was watching him as he put his ear against the bricks and placed one hand on the bricks. Some said he spoke Parseltongue while others said it was regular English. No one was close enough to really tell what was said or promised. Everyone agreed this was magic of a different sort, not taught at Hogwarts. In reality it was Harry just telling the building what was going on and why they were doing it. Sometimes the simple things of life get a little distorted when others not in the know are watching.  
“Okay then, let’s see how this thing works.” Harry said as he joined the others after his little chat.  
Neville started to rotate his hand as he controlled the 3D model. This time it responded perfectly. “Nice one Harry!” Neville added as things moved and changed as expected.  
Luna added, “Look there, I didn’t know there was a door there.” Hogwarts was a big place and not every student wandered far and wide as there was too much going on and very little free time to go exploring outside their normal routine.  
“Nor me,” Harry said quietly as he peered at the door. Just something else to look at one day.  
Then Ginny pointed to the basement and said, “Didn’t know all that existed down there. Now I see why Filch liked the old days. You could lock up half the students down there and no one would know.”  
Then Neville flicked an invisible switch and the walls took on an opaque look. “That is the extent of the spell or spells we, sorry, Harry is dealing with. See how it covers all the walls of the building. All covered very uniformly. Like there is no weak point in the coverage.” There was a pause while everyone looked at the model and the spell coverage. Then Neville added, “This is not going to be as simple as I thought.” Everyone agreed as they saw what thy were up against.  
“Now if you look carefully here,” Neville said as he zoomed in to one of the towers, “you will see how the spell is getting between the stone blocks and slowly weakening the structure. It won’t be long before the tower becomes unstable and falls down. This spell is not going to stop until this building is nothing more than a heap of fallen stone.”  
“Bloody hell. Better get back to the restricted section and get looking,” Ernie Macmillan said. Others nodded in agreement.  
Ginny added, “Looks like the spell has everything covered. That’s why there are new building noises going on.”  
“Parvati Patil replied with, “You heard it to? I thought I was the only one.”  
“I can hear the noises every now and again. Not all the time.” Replied Ginny.  
“Okay boss, what’s the plan?” Neville asked as he continued to play with the 3D model.  
Then a happy George Weasley chipped in with, “If I can get a bit of the spell I could work with it into something worth selling! Harry, this is great. Wouldn’t miss it for the world! Just glad dad isn’t here, he’d want to join in and then mum would come storming in and take over.” Harry had to smile at George’s view of things.  
“Okay then, let’s get up to the library and help the others. There’s got to be something there to help us.” After a thought Harry added, “And George, stick to the spells and not get carried away with the shop.”  
George looked hurt which quickly changed to a smile. Harry had heard that George was wandering off the usual restricted section into other parts of the library after spells that could be of use in the shop.  
It was a full and fruitless day in the library. Harry was wishing Miss Evangelista had not left. She seemed to know her way about the books. They left the piles of books where they left them when Gossiter reminded them for the third time that dinner was waiting for them in the great hall. Reluctantly, dragging their feet, the spell-busters went down to eat.  
The meal was a quiet affair as success was eluding them at every turn. Gossiter made sure everyone was well fed but the sweet taste of success wasn’t there.  
However, there was a chill in the air. Like the stones of Hogwarts were slowly sucking out all the heat that was within the building. Ginny walked over to the fire to worm her hands. As she did so she put her hand on the mantelpiece to steady herself as she kicked a piece of wood back into the fire. The wood went flying and a shower of sparks rose up the chimney. Ginny stood there for a moment then poked about in the fire with the tip of her shoe. Carefully she flicked out of the fire a chunk of wood. She waited and then booted it back into the fire watching the shower or sparks going up the chimney. Getting the hang of this new game, Ginny did it a third and then a fourth time.  
By the fourth time others were watching her playing with the fire. Being somewhat curious Harry had to ask, “Ginny, what are you doing?”  
“Oh don’t worry about her,” George said from the table. “She has this fascination with fire. You should see her on Guy Fawkes night. She joins the muggles in building the biggest bonfire and is usually the one that sets it on fire the night before. When she was young dad had to turn her upside down to shake out all the penny bangers. That was when dad started to use her as the guy until mum found out and that was the end of that.”  
Harry rarely questioned Weasley family stories as he has found out, to his detriment, that they are usually true.  
Ginny was glaring at her older brother when she said, “I’m doing an experiment.”  
George got up and walked over to the fire and said, “What? Seeing how easy it is to burn down Hogwarts? Don’t kick the wood in, kick it out!”  
Ginny give her brother a swift kick in the leg then added, “I said I’m experimenting so but out!”  
“Okay, okay, I get the message. No need to kick so hard.”  
“Just payback for all those times you were mean to me.”  
“I was never mean, it was always Fred.”  
“Just because Fred is dead it doesn’t mean you can blame everything on him.” Ginny suddenly realized what she said and burst into tears. Harry quickly got up and was over to console Ginny. While he put his arm round Ginny he gave George a dirty look.  
That was when Luna wandered over to the fire and started kicking it making sudden surges or sparks go up the chimney. After a few kicks she said, “Okay, I see what you mean.” She then turned back to her chair and three dark chocolate Digestives.  
Now Lee Jordan was really puzzled. So he got up, went over to the fire and kicked a solid piece of wood. He looked and noted the sparks going up the chimney and said, “Okay Luna, what am I supposed to see?”  
“The sparks going up the chimney silly. That’s what Ginny was seeing.” Turning to Ginny she added, “That’s right, isn’t it?” Ginny nodded.  
“Okay, okay you two,” Neville started with. He then got up and walked over to the fire. “Kicking the fire is not the point. What are you two seeing that I’m missing?”  
“Oooo, I see what you are doing. Brilliant… absolutely brilliant!” Parvati Patil “Should work.”  
Harry could see the excitement starting to percolate amongst some of the girls while the boys were dead in the water. He lifted Ginny’s face and asked, “You better explain as I’m not getting it.”  
After a few sniffs and wiping tears away, Ginny said, “When you kick the wood sparks fly off up the chimney. When that happens they give off a bright light. Only for a few seconds. When you do that you can feel the spell weaken. Once the sparks are gone the spell comes back.”  
Harry whacked himself on the head and said, “Brilliant… absolutely, simply brilliant. Light chases away darkness. Truth dispels lies. Right is better then wrong…”  
Ginny cut in with, “Opposites cannot exist in the same place.”  
“You are amazing, really amazing!” Harry said as he gave Ginny a hug followed by a really big kiss.  
“Oh it is no big deal.” Said Anthony Goldstein. “I knew that yesterday while walking upstairs. I could feel the spell stronger in the shadows than in the sunlight. Just forgot to tell you lot.” The hoots of derision were quickly followed by anything close to hand so Goldstein had to quickly vacate his seat.  
“So what you lot are saying,” Harry said regrouping his thoughts, “Is that fire… no, light makes the spell weak?”  
Goldstein said, “That’s the way I see it. Get enough light we should be able to chase away the spell… or something like that.”  
Ginny nodded in agreement.  
“Just like a Lubella Tershwhat,” Luna said to no one in particular. “Father always says they don’t like light of any sort. They only come out on the nights immediately about the new moon. When dad was at Hogwarts he spent a lot of nights in the Forbidden Forest looking for Lubella Tershwhat’s as he thought that would be a typical place they should be found. He said they had special magical powers few understood as only the odd one or two had ever been captured alive and survived captivity.  
“Yet he did say he came across a dead animal in the forest. Only he wasn’t sure if it was a Lubella Tershwhat or not. Hard to tell when all that was left is bones. Then centaurs chased him away and he never found the bones again.”  
“Are you with her?” Angelina Johnson said quietly to George Weasley.  
George got close to Angelina and whispered, “There are times when I’m sure no one is with her. How does Harry keep up with her?”  
“Someone has to think outside the box, and I guess it’s her.” Angelina whispered back.  
Despite the sudden spike in enthusiasm Harry knew it was late and they were going to need a full day to go down this path of light and truth. “Okay everyone. The day is over so let’s get a good night’s sleep and get going in the morning.” Harry was surprised by the discord so he added, “Tomorrow is going to be long and difficult. We need to be properly with it so we don’t make silly mistakes.” The discord died down but did not go entirely away.  
Harry was bone weary when he hit the sack. Then he remembered he wanted to quiz the others about Harveture: and forgot. Oh well.

Friday May 15, 1998

Friday started bright and early with a fine breakfast provided by Gossiter. While everyone was eating Harry said, “Okay, we can do this. Let’s get back to the library and see how many spells there are for light. Not Lumos, something whiter and more powerful. We need to flood Hogwarts with light without doing any damage! Oh yes, and don’t go with Rictusempra either!”  
With that the group headed back up the stairs to the library with a sure purpose in mind. The only noise was the turning of pages and the writing down of spells that produced light to varying degree.  
Rather than wait, Harry encouraged the group to find spells, charms, hex’s then go practice it and see how effective it was. As usual it is one thing to read how to do a spell as against actually doing the spell. Many had forgotten the elementary rules of spellmanship and ended up somewhat battered by the unexpected effects of a messed up spell.  
Obviously the first charms used was Lumos Maxima, Lumos Solem, and, of course, Lumos Duo. These three charms are all related to the base light creation charm Lumos which is tied to the Latin word lux.  
As every good wizard and witch knows it was 1772 when the wand lighting charms were invented. This simple addition to the repertoire of charms revolutionized light creation spells from that point on and many a witch found her way home through the forest to their secluded cottage without getting lost.  
As good as the three spells are none had the long lasting ability to move the dark spells from the Hogwarts stones.  
As a spell was found the finder wrote it down on a parchment that would immediately pass on what was written to all the other parchments so as to avoid duplication of effort. This nifty bit of duplication was something Susan Bones found from some smart first year who was trying to impress her by his superior intellect. She learned the spell then told him to hold her pack of muggle gum. As far as she knew he was still looking after her gum thinking it was something special.  
Harry never thought there would be so many spells related to light. Then again it could be because his fellow DA’s were a bit out of practice with following spell instructions. For example Hannah Abbot found a spell that turned you’re hair a lighter colour: not exactly what was needed. Ernie McMillan found a good spell that made you light enough to start floating upwards. Again, not needed right now. Lee Jordan found one spell that looked like a five foot long shaft of light coming out the end of his wand. It looked and acted like a sward. As Lee moved the shaft of light about it made a funny noise. Again, nice, not what was needed. Then Ginny found Sol Invictus Magnum.  
Sol Invictus Magnum. Is one of those charms that is made for one purpose and used in many unrelated ways. Ginny got sidetracked in her search and ended up in wedding accessories for the perfect wizard wedding and reception. Aside from the flowers, birds, colouration, etc., there is a complete section on getting the right light for each moment of the festivities. As the marriage progresses from formal service to the festivities of food, drink, songs and the traditional dancing, so the lighting should change to enhance each part. This is where the legendary Magnum-O lighting system comes in. Everyone has heard of the Magnum-O system but few have actually seen it because it is top of the line and used by only those who can afford it. Casting a Sol Invictus Magnum charm without a Magnum-O system is virtually impossible. Virtually impossible, not totally impossible.  
“Over here Harry. I think I have something that might work,” Ginny said out loud which meant everyone gathered around. “Look at this one here,” she said pointing to a magical photograph showing how the lighting system works and the different intensity of lighting. “These are good, but look at this one, the so called send-off light. See how bright it is and can be made to follow the couple of their honeymoon. That’s some staying power.”  
“That’s really white,” Lavender Brown commented quietly.  
“It’s classified as a White #1 on the luminescence scale that Professor Dodderitch created ages ago,” Ginny said as she continued to read.  
“Oh that,” Luna commented in a nonplussed manner. “Father went one better ages ago and managed to get a light down to a White #0.5. He was trying to attract a blind bat known as the Scratchworth as it finds its way by Scratching and listening to the sound waves.”  
Ginny was about to say something but Harry put his hand on her shoulder and said, “So, where did the light come in if the bat was blind?”  
“The bat is only blind to regular light. It is perfectly okay in the infra red area of the light spectrum.”  
“Of course, I forgot.” Harry said in all seriousness. Then followed up with, “Did your father use the Magnum-O system?”  
“Of course not silly. He built his own.”  
“Did it work?”  
“Sort of. Just a little more tweaking and it would be finished.”  
“Just a little more tweaking…” muttered an all knowing Harry.  
“I guess so. Then father got called away as someone sighted a very rare Terra-Two-Tail in North Africa. I think that’s where he is at the moment.”  
“So who’s running the paper?  
“O silly, it’s all done by magic. Father gets all the stories, checks them for accuracy then sends them in and it’s all done by magic. Isn’t that what magic is for?” Somehow things always look better when Luna explains them to you.  
“So you don’t have a working Magnum-O system?”  
“Not at this very moment. Could be ready for tomorrow, or the day after. Father is very busy these days now Voldemort is gone. So many good stories are flooding in from people afraid to send in stories because they feared what Voldemort would do to them.” Then she added, “Don’t you love freedom?”  
“I do but right now I’d go for a Magnum-O system to see if this White #1 is what it’s supposed to be like and do.” Harry said to Ginny who gave him a weak smile. She could tell he was disappointed as this spell looked promising.  
That was when George pulled out a thick deep blue notebook from his inside jacket pocket and started thumbing through it.  
“What’s that?” Neville asked.  
“Stuff.” Was the noncommittal reply.  
“Looks like important stuff: if you ask me.” Piped in Padma Patil.  
“Everything’s important to me.” Then George added. “I think there is a work-a-round. Something I stumbled across a while ago. Should work.” Then he said, “Harry, you got the keys to Snape’s personal supply of stuff?”  
“Yep.”  
“If I get this right I think I can get you the lights in a short while.” Harry tossed the keys and George was off like a rocket with Angelina Johnson right behind.  
“Okay everyone,” Harry said, “Let’s keep looking. Plenty more books out there to go through. Plenty of time and if you are hungry then Gossiter can get you a snack.”  
No one was hungry, everyone was busy and plenty books were being scoured then put back on the shelf to make room for the next book. Everybody knew why they were there and what they were doing and how important it was to Hogwarts.  
The yell of “Harry! I’ve got it!” was accompanied by a brilliant white light as George burst into the library. He zoomed over to where the others were and soon he was seated and everyone was gathered around.  
“Okay,” George said as he gathered his breath and tried to hide his excitement in his achievement. “This is way better than the stuff at the shop. This stuff is powerful!” Inside the glass jar were round balls of bright white light rising and falling inside the jar. It was absolutely mesmerizing until George punched Harry in the arm. “Oi mate! Snap out of it.”  
“Sorry,” Harry said as he rubbed his arm. George hit him hard.  
George continued with, “That’s one of the side effects. Gotta get you out of it or else you’ll sit there for ever enjoying the light show.” George looked about at the others and asked, “Everyone with me? Check your neighbour and whack them if they look dopy.”  
“Hay!” Said, Seamus Finnigan  
“Just checking,” replied Ernie Macmillan.  
“Then go check on someone else.” Was Seamus’ terse reply.  
“Okay, settle down.” Said a delighted George.  
“What is it?” asked Harry.  
“Just getting to that.” Then in a louder voice so everyone could hear George said, “This is something Fred and I were working on a while ago. We were going to call it ‘Catch me if you can.’” George scanned the blank looking faces. “Okay… okay I see I have to work on the name a little more.”  
“What’s it supposed to do?” Asked Susan Bones.  
“If you see something going on you throw one of these light balls at it and it illuminates the area. Also has the ability to stay with the object that might be running away at this time.”  
“Or running toward you to strangle you.” Someone said and was followed by a good ripple of laughter.  
“That’s why I’m not giving a warrantee with this gag. Especially as you are throwing it away.”  
“How long does it last?” Someone else asked.  
“This size an easy five to ten minutes. Bigger ones last longer. I’ll put a legend on he glass if you want. Sort of size against time.” George looked about and asked, “Any more questions or should we go and see what this stuff does on the dark spells?”  
There was a general agreement that an experiment should take place to see if this light could do anything to ever present dark magic on Hogwarts. The only question was where?  
Quietly Harry asked George, “Have you done this stuff before?” Rather than say anything George pulled out his notebook and flipped to the right page so Harry could read the title. In big red letters was the word, ‘Dangerous in confined spaces’. Followed by equally large red letters of ‘Throw and run in the opposite direction – Fast.’  
“Okay, this is going to be interesting,” Harry said with a smile. He was thinking, ‘After Tom, this has to be easier’.  
George chose the banister railing going up from the ground floor to the first floor. He selected it as there was nothing between the banister and the main Hogwarts doors. He was planning to plant a light ball and run like hell out of doors. That was until Harry asked, “How are we going to know if the dark spell leaves?” Then he added, “That is if there is no one here noting what happened.”  
George stood up and said, “Good point Harry. Hadn’t thought of that.” Then, after a pause, George added, “Has to be one of the girls who can feel the dark spell.” Harry nodded. “And a guy better stay with the girl: just in case.”  
“Better not.” Harry said quietly to George. “Don’t want too many people involved… just in case.” Harry turned around and said, “Hay Cho, I need your help here.”  
The second Harry called on Cho, Ginny said, “I think Luna would be better as she understands Parseltongue.”  
“Good point. Sorry Cho, Luna, over here for a moment”  
Luna came over and asked, “You want me to see what happens?”  
“Can you do that?”  
“Should be easy. I’ll just sit on the steps and see what happens.”  
Since Harry couldn’t think of any reason why not, he said, “Sounds okay to me.” Then he said to everyone, “I think we have a plan.” Everyone gathered round then Harry said, “George here has these light balls. He is going to place one on the stairs, by the banister and Luna here will sit on the stairs and see what happens to the spells.” Then Harry asked, “Any questions?”  
“What are you expecting to happen? Katy Bell asked.  
“Don’t know,” Harry said in a disarming manner. “That’s why we’re experimenting first to see what happens.”  
“Okay,” Katy Bell replied in a little unsure voice.  
Seeing there were no other questions, Harry said, “If that’s it, step away from the stairs and no hanging on to the banisters, any of them… just in case.” Looking at Luna, Harry suggested, “Why don’t you sit close to the banisters and put one hand on the stairs and the other on the banister. Sort of get two locations.”  
“Actually,” Luna said thoughtfully, “I was thinking of putting my feet on the banisters and hands on the steps. That way I get more contact.”  
George was looking concerned as everyone else was edging toward the door. He eased up to Harry and said, “Harry, I was planning on tossing one of these light balls at the banisters, not place one.”  
“What if you miss? Can’t have that. Have to be sure it goes where you want. If you want, use a broom to get you out fast. Just remember Luna is back there.”  
In a clear voice Neville stated, “If Luna is staying, then I’m staying with her. Just in case like.”  
“Neville, you can’t feel the dark magic: Luna can.” Was Harry’s rebuttal.  
“I may not feel the magic, but I can help… just in case. Anyway, we never left you alone… did we?”  
Harry knew Neville was right. The DA’s never let him down. Actually the DA’s were way in front of him tackling Professor Snape and the others on their own. “Okay, you can stay, just do what Luna says. Got it?”  
“Got it,” was Neville’s confident reply.  
“Hay, wait a minute. I’m not going to be left out of this,” Lavender Brown chipped in.  
“Hang on a moment.” Harry interjected in earnest, “This isn’t something everyone can join in. This is an experiment. So the fewer the better. Just George here and Luna. Only two, not three or four. Okay?” Seeing no one objecting Harry continued with, “Everyone by the door. Luna, on the stairs and George ready to place one of your light balls.”  
There was the quick movement as everyone got in place. Luna sat on the bottom step, kicked off her shoes so she could feel the banisters while a nervous George looked about making sure he had a direct line to the door. Then George pulled out some tongs and yelled, “Everyone ready?”  
Everyone yelled back, “Yes.” The noise of the retort made George jump three inches as the noise reverberated about the building.  
“Ohh,” Luna said as she settled down. “The spell is agitated. It knows something is going on. This is interesting!” Her emphasis on the word ‘is’ didn’t help Georges’ nerves.  
George held the jar in one hand while he undid the lid with the other. Then he reached in and pulled out a light ball with the tongs and the plan was to quickly put it on the bottom step close to Luna. The plan never happened.  
The minute George pulled the light ball out of the jar all hell broke loose. Luna and George were pulled up the stairs in the blink of an eye. Luna screamed all the way up while George let out a loud and very guttural groan type yell as he zoomed up on the banisters. Then the light ball went out and both zoomed down the stairs and were flung off and crashed into the floor in a crumpled heap.  
Everyone looked on absolutely stunned at what they saw. Ginny was first to move and raced over to her banged up brother. As she tried to roll him onto his back all she could hear was, “That was bloody brilliant!” Followed about being careful as he was rolled. All Harry saw was the big smile on his face as George muttered, “Can I do that again?”  
Luna was being looked after by the girls as they tried to straighten her out and find her shoes. Both were very slow at getting into a sitting position.  
“What happened?” Harry asked George. “I mean, one second you were at the bottom of the stairs, then you were at the top of the stairs, then back at the bottom. It all happened so fast.”  
“Don’t worry Harry, I remember it all.” A wounded George said.  
“Luna, any ideas?” Asked Harry.  
“Mmm, I think it was the dark spells. I mean, the second George pulled out that light ball the spell I could feel the spell pulling back. By the time we got to the top of the stairs, the dark spell had defeated the light and pushed us back down again. Like it was reclaiming its territory. Well, that’s what I think anyway.”  
“So you actually felt the dark spells move?” George asked.  
“Felt the spell move and heard some Parseltongue. Didn’t understand it, but I did hear something.”  
“How did the spell feel?” Neville asked  
“Like it was hurt… angry like. Full of rage that someone was trying to push it away.”  
This was all new territory to Harry. This was one time he was really wished Hermione was at hand. She would understand the dark spells and how to get rid of them. Except she was in Australia trying to help her parents get their memories of her back. Even with Ginny, Harry felt alone without his two best friends.  
Ginny caught the worried look on Harry’s face. She could tell he was struggling a bit. They all were all shook up and struggling a bit. The speed of the dark spells reaction was alarmingly fast. Neither George nor Luna had a chance to do anything except go for the ride. This type of experimenting was a little bit more than Harry was expecting. Experimenting on inanimate objects is one thing, putting your friends lives on the line is totally different.  
Struggling a bit George finally stood up and said, “Okay, I can handle this. Just like when we came across Jim-Bobes a while ago. Took us a few weeks before we got the hang how it worked. Do the same here.”  
“Hang on,” Harry said, “This isn’t something as simple as that. You almost died just then.”  
“Part of the risk of being an inventor, old son. Someone has to be first and that is us: Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”  
“You might be dead first at this rate.”  
“Oh come on Harry. That was only the first try. Get a bit of rest then do something different.”  
“I don’t think so. That was not a good way.”  
“Exactly! Have to change something and try again.” Said George.  
Finally Luna stood up and dusted herself down. Both George and Luna were a bit of a mess from their joy ride up and down the stairs. Then Luna said, “Harry, you have to do it to understand what is being said in Parseltongue.  
Harry was taken by surprise and it showed. His face went white and he sat down with a thump on the stairs. Ginny quickly joined him and put her arm about his shoulders. Harry was thinking and was getting absolutely no where. He knew Luna was right. No one else understood Parseltongue except him. And to better understand the spell they had to understand that was being said.  
“No.” Neville said in a sure voice. “There has to be another way. Harry can’t keep sticking his neck out every time something comes along.”  
“Then what are you suggesting?” Lavender Brown asked. “If we keep on looking in the library we might find something. Or we can work with what we’ve got and see how far it goes. Say split up into two teams, one to keep looking in the library and the other to work with George here and modify these light balls.”  
“Changing these light balls isn’t that easy.” George said as he struggled to stay upright. “The spell didn’t have any modification sections, just how to make the light balls.”  
“So, where did you get the spell?” Someone from the back asked.  
A rye smile spread across George’s face followed by, “Sneaky question. “Have to be on a need-to-know base. Right now I’m the only one who needs to know.”  
Cutting the conversation short Harry said, “Okay, here’s the plan. I’m going to sit on the bottom stair, like Luna, while George throws one of his light balls at the banisters.” Looking at George, Harry said, “You better hit it. Then I should go zooming about and can listen to the Parseltongue. Any questions?”  
Ginny was dancing from one foot to the other. This is not what she expected. With Voldemort dead she was expecting something like a normal relationship with Harry. Not having to sit by watching Harry getting thrown about like some rag doll using her brother’s questionable magical ambitions. That’s when she realized this is what Harry has been doing every year since starting at Hogwarts and it was Hermione and Ron watching, and joining in, on his exertions into the unknown. Rather than start fussing Ginny walked up to Harry and said, “Shoes and socks off and give me your glasses.” Harry smiled at his Ginny as he did as he was told.  
Once ensconced on the stairs Harry yelled at George, who was outside the Hogwarts doors, “Ready!”  
“Okay, here it comes.” George replied followed by a light ball being tossed at the stairs. As it came sailing in through the door something like a dark hand came up from the floor, grabbed the light ball and snuffed it out. The ball never made it to the stairs.  
The anticlimactic action left everyone feeling let down. That is when Gossiter came walking in from the kitchen and over to Harry still sitting on the stairs wondering what to do next. Gossiter opened with, “Master Potter, if I may make a suggestion.”  
“Sure, but lets go for a walk up the stairs.” The two of them walked up the stairs and out of earshot of the others. Harry didn’t want to get the other DA’s into trouble with the Ministry any more than was necessary.  
It was a short conversation. When they got back down the stairs Gossiter headed off to the kitchens and Harry said, “Okay, I have another plan.” Everyone was starting to get weary of Harry’s plans. “Remember transfiguration classes when Professor McGonagall gave us all empty boxes and told us to find the rabbit? Remember the box was white on the outside and black on the inside and all we did was sit there opening and lid and looking inside the empty box?”  
“Yeh, and the box was the rabbit.” Grumbled Neville. He was not the best at transfiguration and was happy to get out of that class by the skin of his teeth!  
“Forget the rabbit and think of the box… black on the inside boxes.” Teased Harry.  
“Ohhh, that should work,” Luna said enthusiastically.  
“Oh it is no big deal.” Said Anthony Goldstein. “I thought of it yesterday when lying in bed thinking over the problem. The second he finished a few items were thrown his way which he easily avoided.  
“Okay bright spark,” Harry countered, “Then what is the plan?”  
“Easy,” replied Goldstein, “Boxes with Georges light balls dotted about the place. Say start off with a pile in the dungeons the more on every floor all the way up to the top. Then time the boxes to open level by level pushing the spells off the top of the building. I think that should do it.”  
Harry was stunned by Goldstein’s simple yet expansive explanation. All Harry was thinking of was repeating the experiment with one box at the bottom of the stairs. Not as all encompassing as Goldstein was thinking.  
“Wow, hang on a second,” George cut in. “That is a lot of these balls. Will take some time getting that many together.”  
“What’s stopping you?” Goldstein asked. “Come on, we are the DA’s. We fought Voldemort and are alive to tell the tail. If we can do that then we can do this.” There was a general murmur of agreement from the rest of the DA’s.  
“What do you need?” Harry asked  
“Storage jars, boxes and more of Snape’s stuff. Say three teams and we can get this stuff ready tonight and try out Goldstein’s plan tomorrow.” George said confidently.  
“Sounds good. Before we get going, time for a bite to eat. Gossiter has it ready for us.”  
Gossiter had prepared finger food as he knew a full blown meal would slow them up as they had much to do. The DA’s took what they wanted and sat about chatting away. There was excitement in the air despite the several setbacks.  
Ginny and Harry were sitting close to each other when Ginny asked, “You think it would work?”  
“Goldstein is smart,” Harry said, “and I like the plan. Just didn’t think about doing the whole building at one go. Like, that’s a big step to go from trying out a few light balls to hundreds all over the place all timed to go off differently and in order. Just a big step to go for.”  
“But you think it would work?” A concerned Ginny asked.  
“Don’t see why not. Anyway, what other plan do we have? Mine didn’t work too well.”  
“At lease you had a plan…”  
“So did Goldstein: except he didn’t speak up.” Harry and Ginny ate on in silence while the general hubbub carried on all around them.  
The rest of the day was spent in gathering storage jars so that the light balls that George was busy making could be stored in. Seems jars were the perfect storage place as the light balls did not degrade once inside the jars.  
The boxes proved to be a bit of a challenge as there was no wood shop, per se, in Hogwarts. However, Filch had several storage places where he kept items to use on the upkeep of Hogwarts. One room was where he kept his supply of wood. Predominantly Oak as that was the wood of choice by the founding four, but there was a variety of other woods in the store room. Once found the DA’s got going on making boxes roughly six inches on all sides. A nice handy size that George was designing light balls for.  
George had the hardest task of all. Getting the chemicals just right every time was proving to be a challenge. Since potions was not his strong point he relied heavily on Angelina Johnson. Between the two of them they managed to get some of the DA’s on a production line making the light balls.  
It was late afternoon when George ran out of ingredients to make any more light balls. He had gone though every professor’s private collections of pills, potions and mixes just in case he missed any spare supplies. It seems that Professor Snape indeed had the most comprehensive supply of various items secured carefully in well labeled jars.  
While George was busy making light balls Goldstein had been busy working in the 3D model of Hogwarts. He had modified the model to include the boxes containing the light balls. By careful simulation he was slowly relocating the boxes for maximum coverage with the minimum number of boxes. The shape of Hogwarts did not lend itself to light box placement. With slow determination the locations were selected and then came the timing of starting off in the dungeons and working upward to push the spells out the top of the building. Sort or like reverse lightning.  
Even though they had only did a couple experiments, Goldstein was planning that as the light balls pushed the dark spells further and further up the building the stronger and stronger the spells would be due to spell concentration. Spell concentration is a minor topic in the spectrum of spell making and spell casting which means the phenomena is little understood outside a group of spell geeks of which Goldstein was one, abet a junior member. Goldstein wanted to contact the more senior members of the group but knew it would be impossible to do so without the members wanting to be on the action. So he used several algorithms that he had been working on as spell concentration was an interesting topic to him. By adding in the algorithms to the 3D model of Hogwarts Goldstein could see more light balls were going to be needed closer to the top of the spires to add light power to put the final squeeze on the dark spells to fling them off the building.  
Goldstein presented his findings to the group once George had finished his work and the box makers were likewise done. Goldstein took a good fifteen minutes going over his plan and everyone sat there in stunned silence. No one had any idea that Goldstein was anything but a quiet boy going to Hogwarts. Since no one had any questions to put to Goldstein Harry said, “Well, let’s do it. Everyone outside and lets get loading the boxes with light balls.”  
Everyone trooped out and found a secluded spot close to Dumbledore’s tomb. There they carefully transferred the light balls to the boxes. The process was done carefully as they had no more ingredients to make more light balls and Harry didn’t know how to get more ingredients. Simply put this was going to be a one shot experiment with everything in this one try.  
Once done George said, “We need to go before the light balls go dim.”  
“Right,” said Harry. Then he added “Goldstein, you lead the way.”  
As they took off Harry asked Goldstein, “Where did all that come from. Not stuff taught at Hogwarts.”  
“Not in regular classes. I got it all from Professor Flitwick. You know, the Charms Master.”  
“I know him.”  
“Well we got talking and it seems we have common interests. We both want to be engineers. Or rather Professor Flitwick wanted to be an engineer and I want to be an engineer. I mean, magic is all okay, but to understand what you are doing and then watch it happen is pretty special. Parents want me to be a good wizard so I come here and work with Professor Flitwick on special projects. Since we are here at Hogwarts we worked on understanding how and why the founding four picked this location, how they built the building and why this material.”  
“Oh,” was all Harry could think to say. Stuff about Goldstein he never knew.  
Once in the dungeons Goldstein said, “Okay you lot. Quiet!!! We got work to do.” Looking at the 3D model he directed the placement of black boxes. Once placed he connected a thin string like connector to each box. Each connection was sort of odd and no one understood what Goldstein was doing. So Harry asked, “What’s that?”  
Without looking up Goldstein said, “Connection back upstairs So I can control the opening of each box. Got to get timing right or else.” No one needed to ask what the ‘or else’ meant. Goldstein asked one of the DA’s to take each string like connector upstairs and out the doors to where he had his control center located. Actually the control center was a fold-up table with one chair. On the table was a box that Goldstein told everyone not to touch.  
Once the dungeons and basement was done they moved to the main floor and repeated the effort. Goldstein kept reviewing the locations against the 3D model until they matched. Then he went up the building floor by floor, being methodical, careful and quiet for yet another review. There was something eerie about how Goldstein went about his business. In some ways he knew the building better than Harry did: more from an engineering than a wizard point of view. The hard parts were the towers as that was where Goldstein was expecting the most difficulty in blasting the dark spells out of Hogwarts.  
Rather than locate boxes with light balls at the base of the spires, Goldstein chose to locate them in a spiral going up the spires. He was thinking, and hoping, that this would be enough to force the spells out and away from Hogwarts.  
Once all done Goldstein went back over everything once more: checking each box and location was in agreement with the 3D mode. Then he started work on connecting all the string like connectors into the control box. Upon opening the box to do the final connections everyone could see the timing mechanism. It was an intricate mechanism of cogs, wheels, jewels, and finely made chains all ran by a spring type device. Under Goldstein’s directions things slowly came together. Once done everyone was duly impressed at the workmanship and amount of work it had taken. It was obvious to Harry that Goldstein was a master of his craft. Now he hoped that it would work as there was no fall-back plan.  
“Okay Goldstein,” Harry said, “Run through it one more time so we are ready.”  
“As you can see, the boxes are placed at carefully selected places from bottom to top of Hogwarts. The plan is to push the dark spells out of the building starting at the bottom and push them up and out of the building. That is the plan. To do the plan requires the boxes top open in sequence at predetermined time intervals. The plan is to open the boxes in the dungeon first and push the dark spells up and out of the dungeons. Then the lights here in the ground floor will come on to keep pushing the dark spells up to the first floor. We have to keep the dark spells moving upwards as the light balls down below will go out after some time as George has designed the balls to be brilliant white which means their life will be shorter than we would like. That means we need speed to keep pushing the spells up and out. The tricky part will be the towers. That is where you lot come in. Once the spell is passed the ground floor everyone has to rush in and start firing light hexes all over the place. We need to put pressure on the spell and the more light the better. Just remember you will be rushing up a seven-story building with a hundred and forty-two staircases and into every tower there is at Hogwarts. And believe me, there is a load of towers to go through before we can say the dark spells are gone.”  
Harry listened thoughtfully at what Goldstein had said. Then Harry added, “We don’t know what is going to happen so come in, wands out, and meaning every spell, hex and anything else you can think of. I think I can promise you one thing, the dark spells are not going quietly.”  
“What about the Parseltongue words?” Someone asked.  
“I’ll worry about them if I hear something. At the moment we don’t have any spare stuff to play about with. Everything we have is right here.” Turning to Goldstein, Harry asked, “Timing, go through the timing with us.”  
“Okay. The timing is going to be fast. Once I start the sequence the dungeons followed by the basement then ground floor are going to take something like less than a second. It might be a full second before the light balls reach the seventh floor and then start going up the spires.”  
“Hold on a moment,” Neville cut in. “You expect us to rush in and go up seven flights of stairs in under a second? Hello, how fast do you think we can run going up moving staircases?”  
“Ahh, hadn’t thought about that.” Goldstein said. A stunned silence fell over the group. They were only minutes away from doing the plan and now they have found a fatal flaw in the plan.  
“No problem,” Harry said quietly. “We can do this and we have the means… don’t we Neville.”  
“Do we?”  
“What were you doing then I got here at Hogwarts? You had wires and all sorts of stuff all over the place. You said we needed to learn new tricks incase Hogwarts was attacked again. Well, let’s design the means of going up and go up real fast so we can be up at the seventh floor when the light balls go off so we can be right behind the balls when they go off in the towers.”  
“Brilliant, bloody brilliant!” George said. “This is going to be absolutely brilliant. Always wanted to find a way to go zooming about not used by regular wizards. Should be able to make something for the shop.”  
Ginny cut in with, “Will you stop worrying about the shop and concentrate on what Harry’s saying. This is serious stuff so listen up.”  
“No, listen to Neville. He had this place wired so I think Neville can figure it all out so we can all go upwards as a group and attack all the towers in order.”  
Neville looked hard at Harry, then said, “We can do this. We are the DA’s and survived the battle of Hogwarts. Now let’s save Hogwarts and do it properly.”  
“Ah, I think I better remind you all the light balls are placed and not going to last for ever,” George added. “If you are going to do it, let’s get it done fast.”  
“Time to go, Neville.” Harry said.  
Neville stood up, looked about and saw everyone was looking at him. Shaking himself into action he said, “Right, follow me and let’s do this!”  
Neville started firing orders out in rapid succession. In five minutes he had rearranged the wiring to allow the DA’s to go rapidly upward to get everyone to the top in about a second. Next came the practices to see if they really could do it. All the DA’s lined up outside the main door and when Goldstein said ‘Go’ they all rushed in, grabbed their designated wire and were dragged upward to the seventh floor where they rushed up the towers.  
They did it three times and felt comfortable that they had it down. Then Harry said one more time: just in case. The fourth effort was just as good as the third.  
“Let’s go through it one more time,” Harry said. “We only have one chance and it’s slipping by. Everyone, listen to Goldstein again. And if anyone sees something missing then speak up.”  
A humbled Goldstein reiterated what he had said before. This time not quite as quickly and not quite as surely as before. He realized they almost lost their one chance. This time there was no questions, comments or pointers.  
“Then, I guess, we are ready to go.” Harry said as he looked about the DA’s. No one said anything so Harry carried on with, “Positions everyone. Positions and good luck!” Once they were lined up Harry said, “Wands out, and first person get ready to go.” Harry pulled two wands out and put them between his teeth as he needed both hands on the wire because the jerk upwards was pretty sharp.  
Goldstein was at his table reviewing everything one last time. He then drew in a deep breath and hit the timing button and yelled, “Go!” His timing was spot on.  
Everything happened at the speed of light. In the dungeons was a blinding flash of white light as the boxes fell open. The dark spells reacted in a flash by retreating from the spell by going upward to the basement. Less than a second later the boxes in the basement fell open releasing more powerful white light. Again the dark magic retreated upward to the ground floor. This retreating continued floor by floor through the seven levels all the way into the towers. In reality the time it took to go from the dungeons to the top of the seventh floor was less than a second. The dark spells did not have time to react only retreat.  
While the light zooming upwards so were the DA’s They made it to the seventh floor just after the boxes fell open and the light burst forth. Harry yelled, “To the towers and fire everything you’ve got at the spells.” Harry and Ginny ran to the Astronomy Tower. The minute Harry opened the door he felt something powerful waiting for him. The force was real even though he could not see it. Redoubling his effort Harry pressed on along the Astronomy corridor passing the reading rooms, classrooms, astronomy rooms and to the base of the stairs leading up to observatory area. The last time Harry was here was when Dumbledore died. Maybe that is why Harry chose this tower over all the others.  
Once he put his foot on the stares something dark entered into his very soul that caused him to freeze to the ground. It was darker than even the darkest Dementor. Froze to the ground Harry could not move. Then his eyes closed, hands went to his side, head to his chest and then he started to fall to the ground. That is when Ginny stepped in and gave him a heavy whack to the side of his head. The whack knocked him off the steps and all the way to the other side of the corridor.  
“Ouch, what the heck did you do that for,” Harry said as he gained his strength. “That hurt!”  
“Meant to. Get your wands and let’s get going.” Ginny said in a fierce voice. “No bloody spell is going to get to us tonight.” With that Ginny started firing all sorts of spells up the stairs. Every one landed but did absolutely nothing to the dark spells. Despite the entire building being flooded with white light, the spell was tenaciously hanging on by its fingernails determined to do anything to survive and then win.  
That was when Harry understood the Parseltongue for the first time. The words came small and clear. “Harry potter is still alive while the Dark Lord is dead.” It was repeated three times followed by, “We want revenge.” The words were not loud, angry, or demanding. The words were, however, piercing. They pierced Harry to so much so he feared for his life.  
Seeing Ginny’s determined face caused Harry to jump up and start firing everything he had using both wands. Nothing seemed to work. In fact the more spells, hexes and jinks they fired the dark spell seemed to get stronger. Then the dark spell went on the attack. Somehow the darkness swirled down the stairs and encircled Ginny. She was fighting hard from the inside while Harry was firing everything he had from the outside. Nothing seemed to affect the dark spell’s reach. Seeing Ginny start to be squeezed Harry directed his wand up the stairs and yelled out, “Expecto Patronum” The powerful thought he was holding on to was his Ginny. A brilliant white stag burst forth from the end of his wand and started to go up the stairs to the top. Not stopping there Harry used his second wand and likewise yelled out “Expecto Patronum”. A second stag burst forth and followed the first stag up the stairs. Just as suddenly as it came, the dark spells let Ginny go and retreated away from the two brilliant white stags tossing their heads from side to side pushing and pushing the dark spells to the very edge of the parapets. That is when Ginny went rushing up the stairs also yelling out “Expecto Patronum” Her horse burst forth, reared up and pushed the dark spell off the edge and into oblivion.  
From the high Astronomy tower Harry and Ginny could see the other towers and various Partonus’ likewise pushing the remnants of the dark spell off the towers. “I guess they knew what to do.” Harry said as he hugged Ginny. Ginny was hugging on for dear life as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She was realizing just how close they came to being defeated and then wondered if this is what it had been like for Harry, Ron and Hermione for the past years. Somehow she was glad she didn’t know everything they went through. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.  
Slowly they came down the towers and gathered about on the seventh floor. “Everyone okay?” Harry asked the roughed up DA’s. Several nodded in pride while others offered the usual, “Yeh, were good.” While others added, “Is that it?”  
That’s when Gossiter suddenly appeared and said to Harry, “If you are finished up here food’s ready down in the main hall. Something special for everyone.” A general cheer erupted and DA’s started to head down to the meal.  
“Hang on a moment.” Harry said. “Anyone checked to see if the spells are still about?” The looks on the various faces said no. “We better check before eating just in cast we get jumped with something worse.”  
The DA’s split back up onto three groups as before and went back around Hogwarts running their fingers along the walls. The dark spells had indeed been forced out of the school building.  
Only after the general consultation was over did everyone head to the dining hall. Gossiter had excelled himself. The meal was sumptuous as was the apple crumble with double Devon clotted cream.  
After the food had gone and a the chatter had died down to a reasonable level did Harry get to his feet. Looking about with pride at the best of the best Harry said, “That was absolutely bloody brilliant. You lot are the best.” Seeing Goldstein at the back Harry said, “Goldstein, come up here.” A rather embarrassed Goldstein came up and Harry put his arm about his shoulder. “This guy is great. He had the brains and ideas to make this happen.” A resounding applause broke forth as Goldstein took a bow and worked his way back to his seat. As he did so he received plenty of “Well done” from fellow DA’s.  
“And without George and his potions teacher Angelina the light balls wouldn’t be here. I want to say thanks to both of them.” Again a good round of applause sounded throughout the hall.  
“And a special thanks to Luna, Cho and the Patil girls who could feel the spells. Without you lot it would have taken me ages going about the building checking on where the spell was. You saved me days and days of work. Thank you!”  
The owl came swooping in through the window left open for incoming owls. Lavender Brown knew this owl was scouting the seventh quadrant for any breach in their detection spells about Hogwarts. Someone had beached their spells.  
Michael Corner went speeding up the Astronomy tower as that offered the best view of that area.  
“Okay everyone,” Harry said calmly, “Someone has decided to visit Hogwarts so let’s stay calm and follow my lead.”  
“What lead is that?” Ernie Macmillan asked in a shaky voice.  
“Just follow along with me.” Harry said  
“And me,” Ginny added.  
“What about me?” piped in George.  
“Ah, no. Not George: just in case someone is expecting a booby trap somewhere along the line.” Harry said calmly to George’s raised eyebrow. “I’m still a teacher given a task to do. The task required me calling in help: that’s you lot. Together we have removed the spells and now getting ready to inform Filch he can return to carry on his summer tasks. Everyone get the basic story?”  
Heads nodded as the announcement from Michael Corner was a single person marching across from Hogsmeade.  
Then the Gargoyle to the left of the main Hogwarts door announced, “Person at the door.”  
The doors flew open and in strolled Professor McGonagall sans walking stick  
“Professor Potter, I see congratulations are in order. You have passed the test and removed the spells.”  
“Test… what test?” Harry blurted out in astonishment.  
“The test laid out for you. The test to see if you could discover that light dispels darkness. That truth is more powerful the lies. That obedience is better than rebellion. That doing something of your own free will is far more interesting than being compelled in all things.”  
Harry was absolutely gob smacked at this revelation. The stunned look on his face said it all. He was so stunned that he was unable to say anything.  
Finding his voice Neville that led the charge. “Are you saying this was all a test for Harry?”  
“Oh no: not Harry alone. It was for all of you.” Professor McGonagall said as she led the way back in to the great hall. “Take a seat and I shall explain.” Harry and the DA’s formed a semicircle about Professor McGonagall who used her wand to conjure a comfortable chair to sit on. “Now let me go back a little bit. First and foremost the dark spells on Hogwarts were placed there by the Dark Lord during the battle. One of his little tricks we were expecting. Or rather Professor Dumbledore was expecting. As you all know Professor Dumbledore had paid careful attention to Tom throughout his entire school career and had a better understanding of the boy than most. It seems Tom had a panache for certain spells, one being delayed action spells and incantations.  
“I think there is a certain shop that can relate to delayed action gags and tricks. Is that right Mr. Weasley?” An embarrassed George turned bright red as he usually did when put on the spot.  
“As I was saying, the spells were real and the outcome sure. The question being, who would counteract the spells? Fortunately Mr. Potter here was on hand so he was presented with the task to do so.  
“Before you ask, yes one of the other professors could have achieved the same end in a little less time using a little less effort and gaining little experience. And that is the entire point: experience.  
“All of you have graduated from Hogwarts and can now close your books and never look at them again. Sadly that is what most do. As the saying goes, if you are not gaining understanding, you are losing ground. So how do you gain understanding? Well this little test is one of those ways Hogwarts can help. Think of it as a summer school for select Hogwarts alumni.”  
“A test, are you kidding me! This was only a test?” Fumed Harry. “You mean we did all this for a test? How many more are there out there? All I get is tests here and tests there. Why can’t things be simple! I didn’t ask for all this… all I wanted was to get away from the Dursley’s and have fun at Hogwarts!”  
“And so you did and so you shall. However, and it is a big however, life is not like that. No one said life is going to be easy only that the journey shall be worth it. So what is the journey Professor Potter… What is the journey?”  
“The journey is life,” Ginny said from Harry’s side where she had been all the time.  
“Correct Miss. Weasley. And is life fair to you and your family? Is life fair to Mr. Longbottom? And is life fair to Professor Potter? Of course not. Life was not meant to be fair, only worth it. If life is not fair and only worth it, when will it be worth it? Net week… next month, Next year? Tell me Professor Potter, when will life be worth it?”  
“When we die and move on,” Ginny said softly as she was thinking of Fred.  
“Until that point, you, Professor Potter, and all of your friends here shall face challenges, tests if you like, every day for the rest of your lives. Is that fair? I think so as there is nothing special about you lot that deserves anything less than the rest of us.  
“However, you are special in the fact you were the ones that chose to join this august group, learn how to defend yourselves and were willing to fight for your rights: your inalienable rights given you from the Beginning. In recognition you were invited to come back for further testing, which, I can now say, you all passed.”  
“Hang on a moment here,” George cut in with, “When did I sign up for anything?” He looked about and noted others nodding in agreement. “All I did was come along for some fun with Harry.”  
“Exactly. That was your right to choose and you did.”  
“Okay, wait a minute… hang on here.” Harry said in a high degree of unease. “Was this all set up? Planned like?”  
“If you remember I gave you an assignment: which you accepted. That was the initiating clause of the story that followed. Myself, Professor Dumbledore, and some of the previous headmasters have been watching you and assumed you would call in your friends. We didn’t force you to do so, just assumed you would: and you did. From then on you showed initiative, skill and resourcefulness in finding the means and methods to remove Riddle’s spells that were griping Hogwarts. Did we force you? No. Did we offer any help? No. Did you do it on your own? Yes. And that is what we expected.”  
Harry was agitated and it showed. What Professor McGonagall said was all true. However, Harry was not happy being pegged, predicted and presumed to follow the predetermined course to this point in time and place.  
Seeing Harry was disturbed Professor McGonagall continued with, “Professor Potter, you and your friends have been given much therefore much is required of you. You came here and have been well fed by your house elf, your free house elf, Gossiter. On my orders he has been adding some rather mundane memory power to your meals. Memory powder, as you should know, is used to enhance memory for those who use their memories, and diminishes memories for those that fail to use what they have. So it is with you. As I said earlier, those who are moving forward will gain more skills and remember more, while those who regress through stagnation will loose what they have to the point of not even remembering this event. That is the point of moving forward, gaining more, understanding better and enhancing what you have. Or, on the other hand, coasting along, learning nothing, doing little, and forgetting everything. Hence the saying, you are either moving toward the light or away from it. There is no middle ground.”  
“So who else has done this?” Neville asked in a careful tone.  
“Excellent question Mr. Longbottom. Rather than sit here and go through a list of names, suffice it to say not every Hogwarts graduate has been invited back for further summer classes. Go back and ask. Those who have been here will respond positively while those who have not will be puzzled at the question and dismiss it as something silly.  
“The question you should be asking is, what’s next? So since you are asking the question, let me provide you with the answer. And the answer is to get on with your life. The real battle will be the regular day-to-day work of getting up, going to work, getting married, having a family, getting old and enduring to the end. That is the real work ahead of each of you. Most of us will never reach the notoriety of Professor Potter here, or of Mr. Longbottom finding the sward of Gryffindor in a motley old hat then killing the snake. You will have the fearful memories of the battle fought within these walls. Those memories shall never grow dim just less important to the wellbeing of your individual families. For the family is where true happiness lies.” Seeing a hand go up Professor McGonagall said, “Yes Miss Bones,”  
“There is one question I’ve always wanted to ask. Why are none of the professors here at Hogwarts married?”  
“Astute observation. Very astute but not quite correct. As you know there is always a fine line between students and professors even though some professors do have their favorites. But there is a part of that line that is not to be crossed and that line is to do with families. We do not mix our families with work. And believe you me, being a professor at Hogwarts is real work. Once the work is done, dinner is over, those of us whom are still married retreat to our various homes to relax and get ready for upcoming challenges.”  
“Who’s married?”  
“I think I am correct in saying we are all married only some of us lost husbands, wives and children during the first battle with Lord Voldemort and his cronies. There has continued to be skirmishes with certain elements that have depleted out ranks further while some are still perfectly happily married and enjoying a fruitful time at home. Exactly who they are, are for themselves to disclose. Only for myself can I speak and I shall speak of the battle with Gellert Grendelwald and his army of followers. That was when my young husband fell fighting for what we hold dear and treasure above all, the right to choose.  
“Now enough with the past, on with the future. Mr. Longbottom, I understand that you are particularly keen on doing high level jumping as a new way of defense and attack. Am I correct?”  
“Ah… yes professor.”  
“Good. Then show me where you are so we can see how to improve your reach and dexterity. These are skills we are not allowed to teach during regular school term time, hence the need for summer school.”  
“Were you invited to summer school?” Harry asked Professor McGonagall as Neville headed up the stairs to the top balcony.  
“Of course I was. How else would I remember it and know what you lot were up to.”  
“Is it run by the school?  
“Technically yes and sort of no. Since it is extracurricular it falls into a no mans land area. So no one is technically in charge, but someone has to oversee it to make sure the challenges are there and progress is being made. And, of course, to make sure everyone is safe. Some of the spells can get out of hand when enthusiasm is high. So far we have only lost three people in the tesseract competition. Actually they are not lost, they have not found their way out… yet.”  
“Tesseract competition? What’s that?”  
“Use the dictionary then the restricted section. Make sure you carry a towel with you.”  
“A towel?”  
“A towel is about the most important item you can carry with you when going into a tesseract.” Professor McGonagall said in all earnestness. Harry gave her a curious look. Somehow Harry was having difficulty associating a towel with anything more important than drying hands.  
“Mother once talked about a tesseract,” Chimed in Ginny. “It was a long time ago. I think she was talking to Bill about something and it slipped out. Never though about it again as I didn’t know what the word meant. I guess I forgot all about it.”  
“And that’s how memory power works,” Professor McGonagall added. “We slowly forget all about it until it is gone. And if memory power doesn’t work, then old age does.”  
As they watched Neville get set up Professor McGonagall pulled out a small jam jar from her pocket and said to Harry, “This, I believe, is for you.” Harry took the jar and peered at the beetle running about doing everything possible to escape.  
“Unbreakable charm?” Harry quickly asked.  
“Of course.”  
“Good. I’ll keep and eye on her for a while.”  
“She was lurking about when I came by. Your defenses were better than I thought. Especially the use of owls as they are rather keen on a stray rabbit or cat.”  
The rest of the evening was spent going over what Neville had learnt and what Professor McGonagall showed him and the rest of the DA’s. Stuff not taught at Hogwarts during normal school time. Stuff that required space and a daring attitude.

Saturday May 16, 1998

Saturday came too fast for most. The late breakfast helped as nobody was in a rush to leave. Doddling as they tended to do the DA’s slowly headed towards Hogsmeade for lunch at Aberforth’s place.  
“A word,” Professor McGonagall said to Harry as he and Ginny were about to leave. Professor McGonagall and Harry took a stroll out into the grounds about Hogwarts. Without really thinking they headed in the general direction of Dumbledore’s grave.  
“You did very well Professor Potter.” Professor McGonagall started with.  
Harry thought about what she said for several steps before responding with, “ I didn’t do it alone, it was a team effort.”  
“True, all very true. And I congratulate you for seeing that. On our own we really are quite puny. With others there is strength in numbers. And when the cause is right the desire of the group is multiplied several fold. I think you saw that with your friends. And having friends is always a good thing.”  
They walked on for a while before Harry asked, “What now?”  
“Indeed, what now. I believe what now is two fold. First is Miss Weasley waiting for you by the main entrance to whisk you off the Burrow. And there is your answer as to joining us at Hogwarts along with another new teacher the Lady Kaimanawa. She will be replacing the late Professor Snape as out new potions teacher. I interviewed her myself the other day. I think she is eminently suitable and up to the task of knocking stuff into empty minds. Isn’t that what professors do?” The twinkle in Professor McGonagall’s eye made Harry smile. That about sums it up for him. Moldy professors and moldy kids at a moldy school. Indeed a recipe for success.  
“I shall let you know… soon,” Harry said as they parted company with Harry off to catch up with Ginny and Professor McGonagall off to her summer retreat to regroup and get ready for the new school year.  
Ginny was sitting on the steps outside Hogwarts enjoying the sun. When Harry reached her she stood up and threw her arms about him and said, “Is it always like this?”  
Harry had to think about the question before he replied with, “Yeh… sort of. Sometimes better and sometimes worse. Never dull though.”  
“Thought so.”  
“You okay with that?”  
“No, but I’ll get used to it so long as I’m with you.” With that they strolled off to join the other DA’s at Aberforth’s place. Harry was beginning to see a bright future with his good friends.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sunday May 17, 1998**

 

Playing the Chudley Cannons,   
Is like walking in the park.  
You can not loose. 

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

Ginny didn’t realize how hard it was to wake Harry. Of course Harry had forgotten to set his alarm to wake up so they could get out of the house before Mrs. Weasley was up for the day. Ginny felt that it was time they had a full day alone. Alone as in alone and without Mrs. Weasley bothering them. Ever since the Fred’s funeral Mrs. Weasley had kept Harry and Ginny especially busy while letting Ron and Hermione time to travel Australia and find her parents, now known as Wendell and Monica Wilkins. With Tom Riddle gone Hermione was eager to reverse her memory charm and have her parents back home in England.  
“Come on Harry, it’s time to go!” Ginny said as loud as she dared. Harry was still dreaming he and Ginny were eating ice cream while he fingered the muggle made engagement ring he was planning to give her once all the ice cream was consumed. As fast as he ate there was always more ice cream to eat. Now she was saying it was time to go and still there was too much ice cream to eat and he had not given her the ring. This was all wrong; this was not how it was supposed to be. Harry started to thrash about in his bed trying to make it right again. His plan was not working out.  
Ginny thought hard and then, after pulling out her wand said, Regailimus Totalis. It was an old spell her mother, and pretty much every other mother, used on kids when they were slow getting up in the morning. Harry’s pajamas changed into regular clothing. It all happened while Harry was still asleep. Ginny carefully placed Harry’s glasses over his closed eyes and then used a standard hover spell to take the sleeping Harry down the creaky stairs. Since she was the only one walking she knew how to miss all the squeaky stair parts. Once down stairs she flicked her wand and summoned two cloaks for their ramble as it would be cool out on Dartmoor.  
Once outdoors the cool air hit Harry and he slowly awoke as his feet gently touched the ground. Coming out of his dream, fully clothed and already outside the Burrow was a new sensation to Harry which meant he tripped and fell to the ground. “Ouch! Who did that?” Harry bellyached while lying on the ground looking up at Ginny.  
“Shhh, keep it down before you wake all the garden gnomes and they come out to see what’s going on.”  
“Well what am I doing on the ground? Where’s my bed?” Harry asked as quickly got up and dusted himself down.  
“Don’t you remember? We are going on a trip today? Just you and me?”  
“Sorry… forgot.”  
“Come on then, let’s get a move on before we are caught.” With that Harry and Ginny took off at a fast pace down the path to the road and along to the road to the first bus stop. Once there Ginny put out her wand hand and within three seconds there was a loud crack and the purple Knight Bus came to a screeching halt at the bus stop and Stan Shunpike stepped out of the back of the bus and said, “’Allo Harry, fancy Buster Keaton you here. I mean Dartmoor. Not running away from the shovel and pick, are we?”  
“Hi Stan,” Harry said with a smile. He knew Stan was no death eater and was glad to see him back at work. “Is that Ern up front?”  
“E will be pleased as punch to ave you along.”  
“Come on you two, we’ve got things to do and places to go!” With that there was another loud crack and the bus was off at high speed. “Where to this time?” Stan asked.  
“Grim’s Grave.” Was Ginny’s firm reply. She was struggling with Stan’s version of the English language.  
“You get that Ern?”  
“Yeh” Came from the front as Ern used the gears without the clutch.  
As Ginny moved down the bus Stan quietly asked, “Arry, is she,” nodding at Ginny, “your trouble or twist?”  
“Treacle tart”  
“Right,” Stan said in an all knowing tone. “Right,” he said again and moved up the stairs at the back of the bus. Harry knew news travels very fast when Stan is about.  
“What was all that about?” Ginny asked as Harry settled in beside her.  
“Oh, just catching up on old stuff.”  
Ginny had known Harry long enough to know when he was fobbing her off. Ginny also knew it’s not worth winning the point only to lose the game: so she let it pass by cuddling up to Harry as he put his arm about her.  
Their journey should have been short but they had to make a detour by Plymouth to pick up s seasick wizard. Once done Ern brought the bus to a stop down where Langcombe Brook splits off from the River Plym which left Harry and Ginny a good hike up Langcombe Brook to Gim’s Grave. As they got off the bus Ginny handed Stan a note. Stan read it then yelled out, “Ain’t no bleedin hot ‘tater!!!” As the bus disappeared into the day.  
Harry stood there smiling at the vanished bus and asked, “What did you do?”  
“Ordered lunch. Remember the first Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?”  
“Yep.”  
“Since we didn’t bring lunch, I thought it would be nice to have it delivered. Like having a private picnic.”  
“Right,” Harry said thinking about how good Ginny had things planned out. Like she had thought through everything… just like Hermione.  
“Right then, this way.” Ginny said taking the lead as they started up the brook.  
“Remind me, where are we going?” Harry said as caught up beside Ginny.  
“Grim’s Grave. A favorite of the family. Goes back centuries. ”  
“Is there really a Grim buried there?”  
“Depends who you believe, doesn’t it.” Ginny said with a huge smile on her face. The hike was exhilarating as the views kept changing as they walked over the land. Ginny was surefooted while Harry preferred jumping from rock to rock as they meandered up the valley to Grim’s Grave. With fresh air, a clear sky Harry could not remember such a good start to a day.  
As they moved up the valley Harry was having difficulty focusing on the next rock. His eyes kept wandering to Ginny and how she moved along, red pony tail waving from side to side, keeping her delicate hands stretched out to provide balance over the rocky terrain and the flash of a smile every now and again to Harry. There was something about how she moved that was so enchanting that caused Harry to lose concentration and almost miss his next rock. It got so bad that Harry had to stop looking at Ginny and put all his concentration into the path he was paralleling.  
They walked along Langcombe Brook, and passed Deadman’s Bottom Stream. As they did so Ginny pointed it our with, “About here people will ask you, ‘Where have you been today?’ and you will always answer with, ‘up Deadman's Bottom.’”  
“Really?”  
“Like I said, pretty common about here.” And they carried on their way to Grim’s Grave.  
Grim’s Grave is a kistvaen which did not impress Harry. He was expecting something he wasn’t sure of. Something bigger and grander than what they were standing in front of. “This is it?” He asked in a huffy voice.  
“What did you expect? This is Dartmoor?”  
“So what’s special about this place?  
“Glad you asked Sparky,” Ginny said quickly,. “Sit down and I shall tell you all about it.” Harry waved his wand and a blanket spread out for them to sit down. Once settled Ginny started with, “Family legend has it that a long time ago this place was an active and prosperous tin mining area exporting tin to all parts of the world. We think it was called something like Tynsham, Tindale or Tinbrook. Something along those lines. And then came the Vikings and destroyed, plundered and made slaves of the people here about. The Vikings were after quick money but realized the long term worth of the place and installed a nasty Viking overlord along with a few lesser Vikings to keep the remaining peasants in line and working the mines.  
“His was told to keep the mines going, export the tin, get the money and send it back home to Scandinavia. A very nice set-up if you were a Viking. His skill lay in keeping the people in line with his sward. Step out of line and you were killed. A very simple way to run a business. If he was running out of people, then the Vikings would raid a village or two to bring the slave population back up to working levels.  
“This carried on year after year. People would die and were replaced as needed. Things changed after some village was raided over in Ireland. Seems they picked up a group, or family, or gathering of red head people and brought them back to work in the mines.  
“Family legend has it the men were bad and the women worse. It took them one week to realize what was going on and two weeks to have a plan. It was a simple plan: everyone attack the Vikings at one go. This group knew if they waited too long they would not have the strength to attack.  
“Week three after their arrival they attacked and killed all the Vikings. Losses were high but freedom was a price worth paying.  
“Knowing the Vikings would come back the red headed people from Ireland were buried here. And to cut a long story short, I am a descendent from those people of a long time ago.”  
“Now that is one impressive family story.”  
“As far as anyone knows the story has been handed down for ages. Mum and dad would tell it to us every time we would come this way. Sort of a family pilgrimage at least once a year, ‘to keep the memory alive’ as dad would say.”  
Harry fell silent. He knew nothing of his family. He should have had grandparents alive somewhere. Only he never heard of them or whether they were alive or dead. So much unknown, so much to learn, so much to do and no time-turner to help.  
Thinking along the lines of his family, Harry asked a simple question, “What’s all this about genealogy? Every time it comes up everyone acts weird.”  
Ginny’s eyes got super big and then she jumped up and started looking all over the place. First this side of the Grim, then the other side, then she walked all round to see if anyone was remotely close by. Then she pulled Harry to the middle of Grim’s Grave and started putting charms and spells about them.  
Getting very concerned Harry asked, “What are you doing? That’s some serious stuff you are doing.”  
“Want to be sure,” Ginny replied as she continued adding layer upon layer of spells, hexes and the like.  
“Sure of what? All I want to talk about is genealogy? How bad is that?”  
“Shhhhh…”Fired back a concerned Ginny. “Hold your horses ‘til I’m done.”  
“Okay,” mumbled Harry as he watched Ginny put on the last and heaviest layer on top of all the other spells. Then Ginny walked around the cocoon making sure it was impervious. Harry was impressed at Ginny’s knowledge of these spells, not the normal Hogwarts stuff.  
Before Harry could ask the question Ginny said, “Dad’s spells. He made sure everyone knows them so we can be safe.”  
“Safe from what?” An alarmed Harry asked.  
“Prying ears, lip readers, peepers, extendable ears, and any other undesirables who don’t like red heads or want us deleted from the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”  
“Oh… Why?”  
“Don’t ask me, just the way it is.” Ginny said as she completed her inspection and was satisfied. Once done Ginny said, “Okay, let’s talk.” As Ginny started Harry pulled out his wand to get a couple of comfortable chairs for them to sit on. He knew this was not going to be short.  
“That story I told you just now… that story is for the general public, and not necessarily the true story.  
“As you know the Weasley family is old, very old. No doubt you know we are in the Pure-Blood Directory. But is that really the truth? So let’s go back to the Beginning and start there.  
“As you know all wizards were at the Beginning and agreed to The Plan. Then our first parents were born and they preserved their language and genealogy by writing it down. One book, one language and one genealogy: simple! At the splitting of the languages some managed to get the genealogy translated into their new tongue while others didn’t. So there was those who kept an accurate genealogy while those who didn’t faked theirs.”  
“Fake as in fake?” Asked a confused Harry.  
“That’s what mum and dad say. Fake as in made it up. Rather than choose a low life fake, they went for important wizarding families and said they were related. Obviously those top families were upset by having these fakers tagging along and did everything to stop it. Trouble is, once a fake is written down and a fake seal is attached, getting rid of fakes is pretty much impossible. Somewhere, somehow an old fake will pop up and fool people.  
“And before you ask, yes you can tell the difference between a fake and real genealogy. Most people don’t bother to do the test. They just read and move on. That’s how the fakes are accepted into the real world. And after a hundred or two hundred years, real and fake documents become hard to tell apart.  
“Thinks went along from the Beginning into the dark ages. The plagues and diseases affected wizards as well as muggles. Got pretty bad for everyone. Keeping the genealogy accurate became a challenge and a dangerous responsibility as it meant visiting sick people and families that might pass on the plague to you! As a result the accuracy of genealogy suffered. Of course those families that were holding to the agreement made at the Beginning made every effort to keep their genealogy as accurate as possible, but even for them accuracy was a challenge.  
“Thing went along the rocky path until 1692. That’s when The International Confederation of Wizards enacted The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.  
“What this statute did was to change people’s behavior in many radical ways. One big change was to cut off regular contact between wizards and muggles. This upset some of the so-called upper class wizards from hobnobbing with the muggle landed gentry. The wizards loved all the airs and graces that the muggles had perfected on the backs of the lower classes. Since Lord and Lady muggles were off limits, who did the upper class wizards hang out with? Well that depended on your genealogy. And that is when genealogy got to be very serious business.  
“Quickly emerged genealogy fixers who offered a genealogy service to research your genealogy line, for a fee, of course, and show how you connect into only the best wizards in the world. After you spent a small fortune the fixers produced a fine book, complete with photos showing how you and your family went back to the Beginning along these select lines.  
“Mum says this created a huge business as every witch and wizard with a few spare coins started hiring these fixers to show how much better they were than some other witch or wizard. Mum says trouble started once families started boasting about their genealogy and how ‘pure’ it was. Then other families realized that the fixers had used their family lines to prove lesser families were better than they should. So that made families weary of other so-called pure blood wizarding families. Eventually it all descended into a bashing contest pitting family against family.  
“That created another group called genealogy hunters. They were people that would research a family for accuracy. They quickly flourished and then suddenly disappeared as the families under investigation quietly eliminated, as in killed the hunter researching their family.  
“Do you see what I’m saying? Genealogy can get you killed. That’s why no one talks about it… ever. No one trusts anyone’s genealogy as everyone thinks yours is a fake. Hell, you can’t even trust your own as you don’t know if you had some one say three hundred years ago clean up things to make it look good.”  
“But you said there is a way to tell.”  
“There is. Few are willing to try it just incase the genealogy proves to be a fake. And most genealogies are fakes.”  
“But you are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?”  
“We are but you aren’t. Do you know how we became one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?” Ginny was on her feet, hands on hips, pony tail flying all over the place. Harry had never seen her like this as she answered her own question. “Dad said it’s all to do with Cantankerous Knott running into a cash flow problem. Simply put he was flat skint broke. So he came up with this scheme to create the definitive Wizarding Pure-Blood Directory. So the word went out and everyone was curious if they were in the book or not. Since this was going to be the definitive book Cantankerous made it known that for a certain fee, a high fee, families would be guaranteed a place in the book.  
“The scam worked and twenty-eight families paid the high fees. Dad says his grandmother paid the fee and that is why we live at the Burrow with no elves rather than in London with three elves managing the house.  
“So that’s why no one talks genealogy as everyone is sure your genealogy is a fake and nobody is willing to do a proper investigation as something is bound to turn up and show you are a fraud in a family of genealogy fiddlers.  
“Wow! That’s bad stuff.” Harry said as he tried to take it all in. “That’s heavy, really heavy stuff.” After a pause he added, “You lot are weird, really weird and all messed up.”  
“Well guess who you are dating? A daughter of a weirdo.”  
“I know and that’s weird too.”  
“Oh, and I forgot to mention that the genealogy of the modern day pure-blood wizards prove beyond any doubt that they have absolutely no muggles in their direct or immediate collateral line.  
“No way,” cried out Harry in total disbelief.  
“Totally true. To get into the Pure-Blood Directory you have to present a certified copy of your genealogy going all the way back to the Beginning showing no muggles in the direct line.”  
“And everyone did?”  
“Yep, everyone did. That document fee was on top of the fee to get into the book. That is why only twenty-eight families are in the book: the fees were outlandishly high. Remember, no Potter family is in the book even though your genealogy line should be good.”  
“And before you ask, the Ministry of Magic refuses to have a genealogy department. Dad says everyone at the ministry is afraid to request the creation of a genealogy department as it will kill your career. Dad also says the Wizengamot has never tackled the problem with genealogy. Dad says most likely their genealogy is in a mess, like everyone else’s. So why stir the caldron and make a mess?”  
Harry sat there totally stunned by this genealogy revelation. Then he said in a small voice, “I don’t know mine.”  
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Someone somewhere has a copy. They are holding on to it to use against you at the right moment. That seems the be what people do with genealogy these days.”  
“Hold it against you?”  
“Yeh.” Mused Ginny. “The Carrow’s played that game pretty well. Always saying your genealogy was a fake and had correct copies in their office. See… step out of line and you get exposed as a fake. Worked pretty well on the younger kids until Neville came up with his own fake version of their genealogy. Then one night we posted it all over Hogwarts.  
“Next morning Snape has us all on the great hall ranting on about genealogy. The night we posted versions of his genealogy about the place.” Seeing Harry’s face dip Ginny quickly added, “This was war Harry. Our backs were up against the wall and running out of options. That’s when they rounded on Neville and his family. Like I said, once you touch genealogy expect the worst from everyone. That’s why Neville resigned from school and went underground.”  
Harry was struggling with all these different points of view. Life, he was concluding, is worse than an octopus: attacking you from every side. After a pause, Harry asked, “What about us?”  
“Us? We’re good Harry. Really good.”  
“I know that but that’s not want I asked. What about us and genealogy?”  
“We’re good on that to.”  
“How come?”  
“Dad has been busy doing the checking and we’re good.”  
“How so?”  
“Like I told you there are certain ways to check genealogy. Its complicated magic that originated at the Beginning as it was known that things never go according to plan. Simply put, you get a copy of the genealogy and then cast spells over it. True ancestors show in blue and fake ones in red. The only glitch is the spells don’t fill in any of the blank spaces in the family tree. That’s still your job: to seek out your ancestors, your real ancestors as you promised to do so at the Beginning.”  
An incredulous Harry fired back, “You checked me out?”  
“Dad checked your genealogy soon after you rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets. Said he was thinking ahead… just in case like.”  
“What? Your dad was worried about me?”  
“Not worried about you, just having a deco over your genealogy to see how it really looked.”  
“And how do you know about it?”  
“Dad has a problem of letting things slip out in the heat of an argument. Once said, you can’t take it back. Mum and dad have been talking a lot about you. A lot as in a lot. Over breakfast before dad goes to work and over dinner when dad gets back home. Just never when I’m about. That’s where extendable ears com in. So I listen and dad let it slip he checked your genealogy and it looks good. Don’t really know what that means, so I’m thinking we should be good.  
The sudden appearance of the Knight Bus made Harry and Ginny jump. They did not realize time had zoomed by and it was lunchtime. As usual Stan was at the back of the bus, arms folded, not looking too happy. “I was finkin’ of getting’ you two the Evening Post with a couple of eyes. Then I says, na… ‘Arry ‘as bin good to me, so how about a good ‘n ‘ot Ruby? Then I says, na… ‘Arry ‘as bin good to me. So I popped round the battle and grabbed some grub.”  
Harry jumped up and went over to collect the basket. “Thanks Stan. This is great.”  
“It was Ern’s idea. His local, not mine. ‘Ope you’s two enjoy.” With that Ern slammed the bus into gear and off it went.  
“What did he get?” Ginny asked.  
“Don’t know. Didn’t grow up in London proper, it was Surry, north of the Thames.” Harry dove into the basket, removing the red and white checkered cloths used to keep the food hot to reveal two generous sized Cornish Pasties, Heinz baked beans with two small apple pies along with some double Devon cream. “Now this looks good.” Harry said handing Ginny a plate. They sat there eating their food in silence looking out over the beauty that Dartmoor has to offer.  
Once finished they cleared away the basket, rearranged the blankets in the middle Grim’s Grave and settled down to digest their food. There are times to talk and times to be quiet. This was one of those quiet times.  
The owl flew high above Harry and Ginny. He was scanning the ground, looking for them. Once spotted the owl made a circle over them letting out a high pitched scream to make sure they knew he was coming. Turning slowly into the wind the landing was graceful as befitting the importance of the package he was carrying.  
Ginny nudged Harry and said, “Yours?”  
Harry was sound asleep. He never seemed to have enough sleep and this was a great time to catch up. Good food, good company and a lovely day.  
In the dream Harry was making great progress with Ginny. They had gotten as far as finishing off their ice cream and Harry was fingering the box. He was pulling it out and getting ready to slide it across to Ginny and then popping the all important question of marriage. He was not a happy about being woken up by Ginny or anyone else. Ignoring Ginny, Harry pushed her hand away and was off looking for the dream.  
The owl made a bee line for Harry and started to peck. Ginny scooted away to give the owl full room to wake the sleeping Harry. The gentle pecks were aimed at the softer places of Harry’s anatomy which annoyed him intensely. Harry tried to whack the owl away but this owl was well skilled in the art of avoiding ill timed and poorly aimed whacks. Ginny watched in fascination as the owl continued pecking away as Harry continued to whack at thin air.  
Seeing this could go badly wrong Ginny gently shooed the owl aside as she knelt beside Harry and started to wake him up slowly. Following her mother’s well proven tactics Ginny gently whispered sweet nothings and rubbed his back. It took a while but eventually Harry gave a large yawn, stretched out several times then rolled over looking up at Ginny.  
“Time to go?” was his sleepy question.  
“Not yet Sparky. But it’s time to deal with your owl here.”  
Harry propped himself up on one elbow, adjusted his glasses and focused on the owl. That was when Harry realized his dream had turned into reality. It was time.  
Harry got to his knees to get close to the owl. It was an important looking owl that lifted his leg up so Harry could remove the all important package. He paid the owl handsomely as it was the right thing to do.  
The package was a white leather pouch with two golden draw strings at the top. On either side of the pouch were the initials JJ. Harry opened the pouch and pulled out the plain white box.  
Harry took a gulp, and then turned to face Ginny. In a somewhat distorted voice Harry said the all important words as he opened the box. “Ginny, would you marry me?”  
Ginny looked hard, really hard at the box. As she did so her hands flew to her mouth and in an amazed voice quietly said, “The box… its empty.”  
“What?” Muttered Harry as he quickly reviewed the words Ginny just said because they didn’t make any sense.  
“Oh Harry, the box… its empty. Really empty.” Harry flipped the box about and it was empty. Empty as in nothing there. He frantically searched the pouch. Again nothing. Absolutely empty. “Oh Harry, you love me… you really love me.” Ginny said as she got to her feet and started dancing about. Then she saw Harry’s face and realized he didn’t understand. “Harry, stand up and give me a hug. And make sure it’s a good one.”  
Feeling unsure of himself Harry quickly got up and carefully wrapped Ginny up in his arms. Ginny wrapped herself around Harry. She blended into him. She merged into him.  
There, standing in the middle of Grim’s Grave, Harry and Ginny stood there. After a full four minutes Ginny quietly said, “This isn’t supposed to happen until after we are married. Mum said this happened four weeks after they were married. Bill is still waiting. And for us it’s now.” Then Ginny asked a somewhat bemused Harry the all important question, “Are you ready Harry?”  
“For???”  
“Sealing our hearts and souls together: silly.”  
“Right now?”  
“Yep, the time is now as in here and now.”  
Harry’s short life flashed in front of his eyes. Then he glanced about. On his side of Grim’s Grave was his deceased family. Closest being his parents followed by his grandparents and others he did not know but knew they were is relatives. Then Harry looked to the other side and there were Ginny’s deceased ancestors. Everyone was looking happy.  
“Raise your left hand and place it up against my left hand and repeat after me.” Harry and Ginny stood a bit apart with their left hands touching. “With all my heart I thee give…”  
Looking deeply into Ginny’s eyes Harry repeated, “With all my heart I thee give…”  
Ginny added, “My heart and soul for time and for all eternity.”  
Harry repeated, “My heart and soul for time and for all eternity.”  
Ginny added, “To beat as one as we are one.”  
Harry repeated, “To beat as one as we are one.”  
Ginny added, “From the Beginning, through our union, and into our future.”  
Harry repeated, “From the Beginning, through our union, and into our future.”  
Ginny added, “From eternity to eternity.”  
Harry repeated, “From eternity to eternity.”  
Then a small ball of light burst forth from Harry’s chest to be joined by a like light from Ginny. The two small balls of light twirled together until they merged and then started going round their two touching ring fingers. The merged ball of light was going round their two ring fingers faster and faster. Slowly a band of gold appeared on their respective fingers and then words started appearing on their ring finger. Sacred words for Harry and Ginny only. As they read the words kept changing. Words that became etched on their hearts.  
They stood there, face to face, hand to hand with their families round about silently applauding. A smile spread across Harry’s face as he peaked about. Then he asked, “Are we married now?”  
“Fat chance Sparky. You haven’t asked dad for my hand in marriage.”  
“Then what’s just happened?”  
“The sealing of our hearts and souls.”  
“What’s the difference?”  
“Oh Harry, you have so much to learn.” Then Ginny quickly changed as she noticed two owls. “And before we get carried away I see two howler’s coming in fast.”  
The first one came swooping in fast and stopped right on front of Ginny. The red howler let loose with, “Get back to the Burrow right now! You are in big trouble young lady!”  
Ginny let out a huge sigh, “They know.”  
“How?”  
“A change has happened to the family and they felt it. It’s like that in the wizard world. Nothing’s a secret for very long.”  
The second howler stopped in front of Harry and let rip with, “You are forbidden to see Ginevra Weasley until such times as you have fulfilled all wizarding requirements! Is that clear Mr. Potter!”  
“See that,” said Ginny, “Mister not Professor.”  
“Yeh, I think life has just changed.”  
“Oh, you have that right Sparky. You and me are one and mum and dad are hopping mad. Not supposed to happen until after we are married. I’ve never heard it ever happening before.”  
“Never?”  
“Never. I could check in the library… or you could ask Gossiter. He’d be faster.”  
“I’ll pass on Gossiter.”  
Ginny smiled, “Oh don’t worry about him, he already knows. I’d expect everyone knows. Same with any marriage. Its good news and good news travels very fast.”  
Harry put is hand around the back of Ginny’s head and kissed her gently on the lips. It was not a peck it was a full blooded kiss of one heart sealed to another.  
After the kiss dwindled Ginny took a deep breath and said “Now we are getting there.”  
“Okay, what’s next?” Harry asked.  
“”I better get going home and you to Hogwarts to do what teachers do in the summer.”  
“What about your dad?”  
“Not sure how Harveture goes. You best ask Bill: he should know. And don’t take too long of get lost somewhere. We have to set a date and get this marriage business rolling along!”  
With a glum look on his face, Harry said, “You know I love you. Did the moment I saw you. Had that feeling back then. And now I can’t see you.”  
“You will… soon. Got a year left and we are going to win the cup one last time before I’m through.”  
Harry smiled. He might have lost this battle but he had not lost the war. “Okay, off you go and say hi to your parents from me, their future son-in-law.”  
Ginny replied with a perky, “That’s the spirit Sparky.” Followed by a long, a very long kiss. “I really have to go,” Ginny said in a very unconvincing tone. “They are waiting for me.”  
“I know,” Was all Harry offered. He didn’t want to let Ginny go… not yet anyway.  
As they stood there in the middle of Grim’s Grave Ginny slowly held out her wand arm. The bus came to a screeching halt right beside the grave. “My chariot, I think.” Ginny said as she disentangled herself from Harry and lightly jumped on the back of the bus. She stood there, blew Harry a kiss and was gone in a flash.  
Two seconds after she had left another owl was swooping about with a howler. Harry guessed it was for Ginny as she did take her time going home. With that Harry let out a sigh and thought to himself that life had just improved.  
Stooping down Harry picked up the ring box and popped it open. There in resplendent glory was the ring he had chosen with Hermione’s help. A high quality diamond with a dragon’s blood red center. Legend has it that these dragon’s blood diamonds were the very first to be made as the earth cooled. Since they are from the beginning of time, they are rare and rather expensive. Mr. James had this one tucked aside for ‘that special lady.’ Once Harry saw the diamond he knew it was for his Ginny. Hermione balked at the price, saw Harry’s huge smile, and kept mum. Sometimes price isn’t everything. The band and setting was based on Ginny’s grandmother’s ring with a touch from her mother’s ring. Very traditional for a Weasley.  
So why was the box empty?  
Harry was realizing there was much to learn about the wizarding world he belonged to.  
Then he remembered all his stuff was at the Burrow. Getting it out was not going to be easy. Accio Gossiter. Harry said as he knew he needed help. Gossiter appeared in a flash.  
In a rather nonplussed manner Gossiter said, “All items removed back to Hogwarts and up in the Gryffindor tower.” Then he added, “Congratulations from all the elves at Hogwarts. Miss Ginny is a good catch. And I have taken to opportunity to bring along your Harveture for Dummies book. I think you are going to need it. And Mister George said to drop by the shop so he could kill you. That is after Percy kills you.” Gossiter gave Harry a rye smile then added, “The Weasley clan seem to be a rather blood thirsty lot.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Monday May 18, 1998**

 

For a player to be good enough to play Quidditch,  
he must be prepared to run through a brick wall for me  
then come out fighting on the other side.

Attributed to Bill Shankly

 

The noise Harry was hearing was bothering him. He should be alone in the Gryffindor dormitory but there is was: a noise. It was too early to get up so why was there any noise at all in the supposedly empty castle? Slowly the constant noise got to the point that Harry opened one ear and discovered the noise was Ron snoring away in his bed. Since it was only Ron Harry rolled over and went back to the good dream of Jenny and himself down on the beach. They were running hand-in-hand along the water’s edge splashing each other while carrying shoes and socks in their hands. Harry had a smile on his face as he dreamed away as it was a good dream. Then they stopped and Harry helped Ginny select the right stones to skip across the water. She laughed lightly as they skipped stone after stone.  
Despite being with Ginny the noise droned on and on as Ron breathed in and out. The droning monotony annoyed Harry to the point that he was slowly loosing focus on his Ginny.  
Ever since Harry and Ron arrived at Hogwarts they have been in the same beds in the same tower of the same school. Over the years both had become skillful at tossing something at the other in the middle of the night knowing it would hit the target with a high degree of accuracy. That is exactly what Harry did. He grabbed a pillow and without even looking launched it at Ron. The quiet thud did the job: it forced Ron to move which resulted in a cessation of noise.  
Even before the pillow struck Ron, Harry was trying to get back into his dream of Ginny and the beach. As Harry tossed about looking for the dream something bothered him. Something was wrong, really wrong. The harder he looked for Ginny and the beach, the further away it became. As the dream faded and real sleep slipped away Harry entered that bit between sleep and awake, Some call it the twilight zone while Hermione always called it by its proper name of hypnopompia. She knew all the big words to pass some exam or other.  
That was when Harry sat bolt upright. Hermione knew the words and if she knew the words Harry knew if Ron was back then Hermione should also be back. In a flash Harry jumped out of his bed and onto Ron’s bed to find out what happened in Australia.  
“Wake up Ron… wake up!... What happened?... Is Hermione back?... Did she get the reversal spell right?... Come on Ron get up and tell me!”  
“Gerr-off pest or I’ll brain you!” Ron replied from a deep sleep.  
“Come on Ron, wake up and tell me.” Ron had no plans of waking up so he tried to punch Harry. Harry knew it would come and parried it gently away. “Ron, it’s me, Harry.”  
“Piss off Harry,” Ron muttered as he turned over to get away from Harry-the-pest.  
“Wake up Ron, Lots to talk about and to do… come on wake up!”  
To all this badgering Ron let loose with, “LEAVE ME ALONE!”  
Harry smiled to himself as he knew he was getting through to Ron. Just a little bit more and Ron would be up chasing Harry about the dormitory. Harry quickly decided not to tickle Ron as that always gets Ron into a bad mood. Harry pushed the sleeping Ron who was hiding under his covers and tried to find a way to tickle him. While he pushed said, “Ron, it’s me, Harry. Come on I want to know how it went. Or should I go and wake Hermione up and let her tell me first.”  
“No you bloody well won’t.” came from the bed.  
“Who’s going to stop me? You?”  
“Sod off Harry.”  
“Ron, it’s me, your best friend in the world. It’s Harry!”  
“Then get stuffed Harry, I need to sleep.”  
“Okay, I’m off to see Hermione. She will let me know.”  
“No she won’t.” Ron said slowly crawling out of his sleep.  
“You’re not fit to stop me going to the girls’ dorm.”  
“Look mate, sod off over there then. Just LEAVE ME ALONE!”  
“No need to shout,” Harry said as he grabbed his Minchkin cape and tossed it over his shoulder. Harry left the dorm room open as he walked down to the common room. The large common room had an eerie chill and quietness about it. Something Harry had never experienced in all his time at Hogwarts. That’s when he remembered he had never spent a summer at Hogwarts: he always went back to the Dursley’s.  
Harry ran up the steps to the girls dormitory yelling, “Hermione, where are you? Did it work?” He rushed in only to find Hermione’s bed empty as well as all the others. Not sure to believe his eyes Harry went to all the beds a second time. Slowly and mystified Harry retraced his steps to the boys dormitory. There he found Ron sitting on the edge of his bed still in yesterday’s clothing. “She’s not there mate.” Ron said in a subdued tone. “She’s still in Australia. I couldn’t stand it any longer so I left.”  
“You left Hermione alone in Australia?”  
“Well, somthin’ like that… I suppose.”  
“Ron, there is no suppose about this. Is Hermione still in Australia?”  
“I suppose so. At least she was when I left.”  
“So, you left her alone in Australia. Is that what you are saying?”  
“Yeh and no. Not as simple as that. Things happened and others didn’t. Oh Harry it was a mess from the start and then she froze and I left.”  
A stunned Harry stood rooted to the floor. This was not how things were supposed to turn out. It should have been Ron and Hermione walking back to Hogwarts, hand in hand, having restored her parents memory. Not Ron on his own wallowing in self pity.  
“Right,” Harry said, “Take it from the beginning.”  
Ron flopped back on to the bed, grabbed a pillow and banged it behind his head and then started with, “Started just fine. You know we went to London for a few days. Mostly Hermione off on her own doing ‘family stuff.’ Sort of getting things ready this end just in case her parents wanted to come back to England. So I spent time with Fred and Percy down at the shop. You know, make sure Fred was busy and not moping about. Then by slow aeroplane to Australia. Struth, is flying slow. How do muggles do it? I mean to say, sit there, eat and wait. Not my idea of fun.” Seeing Harry’s serious look Ron got back on message. “Once in Australia we spent two days in downtown Sydney, getting used to the time change.  
“Once comfortable Hermione rented a car, she drove, and we took off to scout out the area. I mean to say there aren’t too many Wendell and Monica Wilkins practicing dentistry in the city. Found their house and their practice. Only problem they were gone on holiday for a while. That is when Hermione panicked. See, she had this plan all worked out. You know how she is. Always planning and covering every angle. Well this time she couldn’t as she hadn’t been to Australia before. You know, the unknown unknown that you can’t cover, and that’s what happened. So there we were, wands and spells at the ready and no one home.  
“She froze and I had to help her back to the car. Since I didn’t know how to drive a regular muggle car we sat there for hours as Hermione stared out of the car window at her parents house not moving an inch. It was weird, I can tell you. Loads of people walked by asking if all was okay. I lied saying she was a maniac depressant and I was trying to help her.”  
“You said what?” Harry said in a loud voice not believing what Ron was saying.  
“It’s the first thing I could think off. Pressure of the moment and I had to say something.”  
“Okay… Okay Ron. Just keep going.” Harry said as he grabbed a chair and sat down facing Ron who was still studying the ceiling.  
“Somehow she drove back to the hotel and we spend the next two days talking it through. I tried every trick I could think of. But she was like shutting down on me. She was so keyed up for us to use the spells on her parents there was no back-up plan. Slight mistake there. So I went out to their dentist practice to make a booking and to find out where they were. I mean to say, where do dentists go on holiday?  
“Well these two were at the ABBA festival in Trundle which is in the middle of nowhere New South Wales. Ever heard of that?”  
Harry didn’t know ABBA per se, but he did know Petunia Dursley had a soft spot for their music. It happened one day when Harry and Big D were supposed to be outside playing with Big D’s friends followed by dinner with one of the friend’s houses. Since Harry was tired of playing the usual game of being a human punching bag, Harry had double-backed and got in to the house without making a noise. Hiding under the stairs in his usual spot Harry could hear Mrs. Dursley pottering about cleaning as usual. Rather than listen to the radio 4 afternoon play, Mrs. Dursley carefully unlocked the top drawer of her personal chest of drawers. Harry and Big D often talked about what could be hiding inside the locked drawer. Both boys had never seen a key for the drawer so they knew it had to contain something special to Mrs. Dursley. Even Mr. Dursley never asked what his beloved wife kept there.  
Carefully Mrs. Dursley went around the entire house opening every door to make sure she was alone. Every door, that is, except Harry’s door. Since Harry didn’t count why bother with his door? Harry listened carefully to the noises as Mrs. Dursley plugged in her small portable CD player and then put in her ABBA Gold CD. For the next fifteen minutes Harry could hear Mrs. Dursley singing in perfect harmony with ABBA. Harry was amazed that such a skinny person, as Mrs. Dursley was, could have such a fine voice. When the singing stopped Harry could clearly hear a substantial sigh as Mrs. Dursley put the CD and player away and lock the top drawer.  
It was during those fifteen minutes that Harry realized that Mrs. Dursley was not all bad as he had previously supposed. He realized there was more to Mrs. Dursley than all her screaming, yelling, cleaning and cooking: she could sing and sing beautifully. That was Harry’s entire knowledge of ABBA. Harry shook his head knowing nothing about ABBA and Australia.  
“Nor me. Had to learn fast as that was where Hermione wanted to go. I mean, one minute she is down in the dumps, the next she has a map out and we are driving to this place in the middle of nowhere. I mean the change was that fast. So we packed up everything and hit the road. Drove like maniacs. Found a small room at the Trundle Hotel and I had to sleep in the car.  
“The place was crawling with blonds and brunets all in short-short dresses. The guys were in white spandex, at least that was what Hermione called it. Didn’t know where to look. Hermione was all over the place looking for her parents. I couldn’t get excited about it all. Mean to say, loud music and loads of boys and girls dressed all alike. Weird, really weird. Why try to look and sound like someone else that is better than you.  
“Hermione first spotted her parents over at a book signing event going on. Seems someone wrote a book combining Americas AC72 boats and ABBA in Sweden. Or rather one of the group in Sweden.”  
“How do you know so much about the book?” Harry asked.  
“Easy, Hermione got in line and bought a signed copy of Llanos Mesteños. Thin book, only 80 or 90 pages long so easy reading.”  
“What does the title mean?” Harry asked as the conversation got sidetracked.  
“Don’t know. Spanish he said.”  
“Who said?”  
Then Ron remembered and added, “The writer said. Spanish from Texas.”  
“Okay, lets get back on track.”  
“Right,” Ron said and continued with, “Then Hermione followed them like glue. Everyone had a good time and then back to Sidney. We followed a safe distance behind all the way to their door.  
“While they were unpacking their car I said to Hermione that now would be a good time to do it. Again she froze. Hands on the wheel looking at her parents with those big eyes and saying nothing.  
“Look Harry. I can handle normal girls. Even talked to Luna and to your moaning Myrtle. But this was different. Really different. She froze and said nothing, did nothing, and moved nothing. Froze like a statue and we were stuck as she was in the drivers seat not driving, not moving. Weird, really weird.”  
“Why didn’t you send an owl or something? I would have got there somehow.” Fumed Harry.  
“Do you know where to find an owl in downtown Sidney where everyone has a weird accent and says everything in a weird way. Of course I tried. You try it the next time you’re downtown London. You’ll see how easy it is. Same for portkeys and old brooms. Not as simple sitting here at Hogwarts.”  
“Sorry. Didn’t think.” Muttered Harry in retrospect.  
“No problem. Same for me,” Ron said, “Been realizing things what I should have packed and carried, rather than letting Hermione do all of that.  
“Somehow we got back to the hotel and Hermione was in bad shape. She was wondering if she was good enough… could she do it… what if it goes wrong, what then? And on and on she went. She was worried, really worried and there was nothing I could do or say that made a difference. It was like I wasn’t there.  
“Then she would ask a question and then answer the question saying what will go wrong. Not could, no, she said what shall go wrong. It was black, I mean black. Listen mate, she was going out of control with worry and never left her bed. It was bad, really bad.” That’s when Ron sat up and looked pathetically at Harry. With tears streaming down his face Ron admitted, “That’s when I blew it. Had enough and wanted out. Just like last time, in the forest. ‘Cept I was leaving Hermione on her own. It was a full day of black and I could see no way out of it. Hermione was not doing anything and I was doing nothing ‘cept getting in her face. That is when she slapped me and said I was useless as I couldn’t do the spells. She told me to shut up, sit down, and be quiet… or else!  
“I did the ‘or else’ by getting up and walking out of the door and off to the Leaky Billy for the night. Then it was slow going through the Floo network to here.”  
The story had ended and both sat there looking at each other. Ron remembering leaving Hermione for the second time while Harry remembering what it was like when Ron left the first time. Realizing time was of the essence Harry snapped his finger and a split second later Gossiter appeared out of nowhere.  
“Gossiter, I have something for you to do. This is very important so let me know if you can or can not do it.” Harry did not wait for a reply and rolled in to his question, “Can you get to Australia, fast… real fast?”  
“Yes Master, of course Master, I can. Only where is Australia? I have never heard of it.”  
“Don’t you have a map?” Cut in Ron. He was seeing where Harry was going.  
“House-elves don’t need a map,” Gossiter said in a highly dignified manner. “We can see better with our eyes open. So, if you can point me in the right direction I can get there. Just like any other house-elf.”  
Harry was impressed by Gossiter’s self assurance. That was when Harry got up and grabbed a world globe that had been sitting by the window ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts and was never used or moved. Spinning it Harry said to Gossiter, “See, we are here,” pointing to a small Scotland, “and Hermione is here on the other side.” Harry added, this time pointing to Sidney in the large continent of Australia.  
Gossiter’s eyes were very large as he took the globe and spun it round and round getting the full measure of the distance. “That is a long distance. I think I would take along Winky as my assistant.” Was his final pronouncement. “We will find Miss. Granger and assist her in any way to bring her back home. Safe and sound.”  
“When could you start?” Harry quickly asked.  
“If you don’t mind if I take this globe, I think we can start right away. Of course I have to talk to Winky… I think she would be willing to help a lost soul in a strange place.”  
“You can do that?” Ron said.  
Somewhat coolly Gossiter replied with, “We can do that for Master Potter and Miss. Granger as they are our best friends.”  
Ron kept his mouth closed as he knew he was in the dog house and this was the best and fastest plan to help Hermione.  
“Okay, you better get supplies and get going.” Harry said.  
“House-elves never take supplies on a mission like this. We go and do the things you have asked as us house-elves to do knowing that a wizard would never ask us house-elves to go and do something without knowing we can accomplish it or provide a way of accomplishment.”  
Harry was taken aback by the faith and trust Gossiter was showing in him. “Look,” Harry said, “You find Hermione and help her. But once you have found her, let me know if she is okay or not.”  
“Master Harry, consider it done!” And with that Gossiter disappeared.  
Ron let out a long sigh then added, “Maybe I’d should go back and help.”  
“I’d think Gossiter and Winky will be there before you. But if you want, then go.”  
“Maybe I’d better.” Wondered Ron as he looked at Harry for moral support.  
Then Harry looked closely at Ron and asked, “You been home yet?”  
“Ah, not quite.”  
“You idiot. You left her there and have not told anyone!” Harry said in a raised voice. “Then you show up here.”  
“I’d thought you’d understand” Ron said in a huff.  
“Listen mate, no I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could do it to her a second time. If I were you, I’d get my rear back there faster than any house-elf can do it. Hermione is your best hope, best chance and best girl you’ll ever find.” To add extra emphasis Harry whacked Ron about the ears, then said, “Get out of here idiot and get back to Hermione.”  
“How?”  
“Apparition you idiot. Focus on Hermione and get out of here before I boot you where the sun doesn’t shine!”  
“Okay, okay… I can do it… I think.”  
“Don’t think, just do it… NOW!”  
“Okay, okay, no need to yell. I can do it.”  
“Then get going.” Harry said waving Ron away.  
“I’m going…”  
“No you aren’t. You’re sitting there and not moving.” With that Harry stood up and pulled out his wand, his real wand, and started to wave it at Ron. That got Ron’s attention.  
Ron stood up, closed his eyes in concentration and disapparated.  
Harry stood up and whacked one of the posts on Ron’s bed. As much as he loved Ginny he’s always had a soft spot for Hermione. They had been through much together and were there for each other when the chips were down. Harry knew Hermione must be really worried to be in such a state, if Ron’s reporting was correct. At least with the house-elves Hermione would have someone competent to talk to.  
Even though it was somewhere about three in the morning Harry was hungry. Since no one was cooking at the Hogwarts kitchen Harry decided to get up and walk over to Hogsmeade for an early breakfast. Sleep was long gone as he mulled over the relationship between Ron and Hermione. That’s when he realized he should have hit Ron harder to make him realize how good Hermione was.  
Harry used a sprinkle of Parasol and then scrubbed his teeth. While he was scrubbing he was thinking why a teeth cleaning spell hasn’t been invented yet. Spell and spell creation had been a recurring thought Harry has had through the past couple of years.  
When Harry first came to Hogwarts classes were full of learning, homework, Quidditch and riddles to solve. Harry had been too busy learning someone else’s spell to ever wonder how and why spells are made. That was until his sixth year when he found Professor Snape’s personally annotated copy of Advanced Potion-Making. The book was an absolute marvel clearly showing Severus Snape’s predisposition to potions and spell creation. This was all new territory to a Quidditch mad Harry as against someone willing to spend their time mastering potions and creating their own spells.  
It’s like… how did Professor Snape know to use the flat side of a silver knife as a simple and very effective way of obtaining the juice from the Sopophorous bean when creating the Draught of Living Death? How did Professor Snape make the jump from the instructed cutting the Sopophorous bean to using the silver knife? It is that leap from the printed instruction to something else that Harry couldn’t see.  
It was the same when it came to making the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Professor Snape added a sprig of peppermint to counterbalance the possible side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking. Again, how did Professor Snape know to add such a simple ingredient would get such a change?  
And then there was Sockserphi. The book listed three ingredients, boxwood, dragons breath and the bean that cannot be found. Of course Professor Slughorn expected everyone to fail this particular homework as he clearly stated the last two ingredients were not available in Hogwarts. Of course every student sent owls home requesting parents to find, buy and send the missing ingredients back by return owl.  
As every past student who took advanced potion making knows these two ingredients are no longer available. They were band in 1211 during a serious rivalry between two groups of wizards. Every student, that is, except the Half-Blood Prince. This was the type of challenge that he rose to.  
Rather than accept the loss of these two ingredients, the Half-Blood Prince spent the next several days researching, experimenting, back-creating and testing what he believed could be suitable replacements. The page containing Socksephi was heavily annotated, with serious editing and reediting. In the bottom left corner was a new recipe outlined in red. The recipe contained fifteen ingredients that were easily available at Hogwarts. Harry paid close attention to the recipe and the result sort of matched the description the book had. When homework was due, Harry Potter was the only person to hand in a vial.  
“My boy, what is this?” Professor Slughorn asked in a very surprised voice. He wasn’t expecting anyone to hand in a vial even though he was hoping Harry would rise to the challenge based on his past performance.  
“My homework,” Harry said. The rest of the students stopped leaving the classroom as they wanted to see if Harry was in trouble again.  
“Are you claiming to have done the homework?”  
Harry glanced about the classroom and noticed a furious Hermione. She had told Harry not to hand in the vial as it was impossible to make. Harry said “Yes,” in a sure voice. His faith in the Half-Blood Prince’s book was unshakeable.  
“This is very serious as no one has ever made it before.” Looking hard at Harry, Professor Slughorn then added, “You know what this means; don’t you?”  
Somewhat unnerved, Harry said, “That I am the first?”  
“Aside from that triviality. It also means the ability to forget is back.”  
“Forget?” A puzzled Harry said.  
“Of course. That is what Socksephi does. It takes away the most horrible memories you have. Some say it relieves the soul while others claim it’s best taken after the mother-in-law is dead so you can forget all about the old windbag.”  
“Seriously?” Said Ron from the corner of the room. He was wondering what Socksephi was supposed to do as it was not listed on the parchment.  
“Of course seriously.”  
Ron came back with, “Then how do you test it if you forget?”  
“Ah, I did not say you forget. I said you forget your most horrible memories. I hope you see the subtle differences. Takes a fine wizard to split that one apart.” Holding the vial to the light Professor Slughorn started to swirl it slowly while studying its coloration and saturation. “Interesting, yes, very interesting.”  
Then Harry asked the key question. “If it has never been made before, how do you know if I have it right?”  
“Excellent observation! Five points to Gryffindor!" Harry beamed while Hermione continued to scowl.  
Then Harry had a brainwave. There was one odd note that he wasn’t sure of. The Half-Blood Prince had written note saying to open the vial underwater and let one bubble percolate out. It didn’t make sense as he wasn’t sure how to do that. Then he remembered the pressure apparatus in the corner. If he could simulate a greater pressure on the vial then he could let a bubble escape. “Pressure would do it.” Harry said with a sure sound of triumph in his voice.  
“What did you say?” Professor Slughorn said quickly.  
“If I could simulate this vial at, say 200 feet under water, the pressure would force out a bubble which would react on its way up…”  
“And would give off a certain tell-tail luminescence that would prove you had indeed created Socksephi!” Professor Slughorn said while his face with flush with success. “Excellent idea Harry. Another five points to Gryffindor.” Then Professor Slughorn added, “Tonight right after dinner. By then I shall have the test set up and ready to go.” Looking to the rest of the class he added, “Any other student interested in potions, take careful note of Mr. Potter here and his superior skills. Tonight we shall see exactly if Harry is successful or not. So cut along to your next class and back here tonight.”  
Harry caught up with Ron and Hermione as they raced to their next class. They were cutting it close. As they ran Ron said, “Bloody brilliant, Harry. But I don’t trust that sod. I bet he’s up to something.”  
Hermione chimed in with, “Harry, you are in big trouble. No one has ever made that stuff before. You don’t know if that book is right or not. You don’t know what you have created!”  
“Don’t worry Hermione,” Harry countered. “It’ll be fine; trust me.” Hermione gave Harry a worried look as the three of them got to their next class with moments to spare.  
Harry left Hogwarts and walked slowly over to Hogsmeade. He was early and in no particular rush. As he walked he thought about Hermione and how smart she was.  
Harry had known Hermione ever since the first day of their first year at Hogwarts. Ever since then Harry knew she was smart. At times insufferably smart: but smart none-the-less. She put in the time and effort to stay ahead of the rest. For her studying books came easy. Books had a fascination which made reading and remembering easy. For Harry and Ron, books were a slog, a hard slog. Many the time Ron and Harry went to bed telling each other that without Hermione they’d never make it though their homework let alone their O.W.L's.  
As he walked he pulled out Professor Snape’s wand. As he walked he twirled it and thought the memories Professor Snape gave Harry in his dying moments: memories he desperately wanted Harry to have. Memories that challenged everything Harry understood about the Half-Blood Prince. Memories that changed black to white, night to day, hate to… Hate to what? Even for Harry there were challenges to overcome with respect to Professor Snape.  
Harry sat outside the Hog’s Head Inn watching the sun come up. As he watched he dozed off as the chill of the early morning was slowly taken away by the blazing sun.  
It was the noise of Aberforth banging pots and pans on the wood fired range that woke Harry. He stretched himself, dusted the morning off his cloak, and entered Aberforth’s somewhat fine establishment with, “Am I early for breakfast?”  
“Thought it was you out there all bundled up.” Aberforth said from the back as he looked for a good side of bacon to slice into the frying pan. “Not too many passing by this time of the day. Some say too early for any self respecting wizard to be up and about.”  
“You’re up and about.”  
“I’m not self respecting, I’m the landlord and is expected to be up and going.” Then after a few moments Aberforth asked, “Breakfast will it be?”  
“If you have something going.”  
Aberforth smiled. He liked Harry’s ways with words. Simple, direct and without guile. Not like Albus. “I think I could rustle up something fit for a young wizard such as yourself. Maybe I could do two plates and join you.” Glancing toward the window Aberforth added, “Going to be a fine day. Look at that sunrise.”  
Harry swirled off his cloak and hung it on the back of the door. Rather than sit there he went and found the cutlery and set two places, side-by-side on the long table. Then he realized he forgot a drink. He found two goblets and thought it was best to let the master of the house do the selecting. Aberforth pointed to a pot of percolating coffee. Carefully Harry carried the pot to the table and everything was ready.  
Aberforth brought over the pan full of eggs, bacon, tomatoes, onions and some leftover peppers. He set it before the two of them so they had equal access to the excellent vittles. Without a word Aberforth doffed his hat and offered a short blessing over the food. They tucked in without saying a word. As they ate Harry was still mulling over a spell to clean his teeth. Harry was thinking it was a matter of practice.  
While Harry was in mid thought Aberforth said, “You have it wrong.”  
The words jerked Harry back to the present and said, “What?”  
Aberforth let out a sigh and chided with, “Didn’t they teach you manners up there at Hogwarts. I believe the word is, ‘Pardon?’ and then I reply. Why not give it a try?”  
“It was ‘What’ as in ‘What did you say?’ Except I didn’t remember the rest.”  
“I guess that’s the modern idiom. Not in my day.” After a mouthful of good quality bacon Aberforth said, “I said, ‘You have it wrong.’ To which you replied, ‘What?’ as an abbreviation for, ‘What did you say.’ I think that is were we got to.”  
“Exactly. Yes.” Harry started but did not know where to go with the conversation. Finally he added, “What did you mean?”  
“I mean your attempt to create a spell to clean your teeth is doomed to failure.”  
Harry stared at Aberforth. The stare was long and hard. Finally Harry had to ask, “How did you know that? I’ve never talked to anyone about it.”  
“Elementary Harry… elementary.”  
“What do you mean by that?”  
Aberforth looked at Harry and said, “You are an open book. What you were thinking was crystal clear. It was all written on you face for everyone to read.”  
Harry put down his knife and fork, crossed his arms across his chest and coolly said, “Have you been spying on me?”  
Aberforth chuckled as he ate. “Nothing so elaborate. The prosaic truth is well documented in the chronicles of Sherlock Holmes. It is claimed he could solve a crime or mystery by his powers of observation. Likewise, I used my powers of observation and concluded that your new spell to clean your teeth is doomed to failure because you are using the wrong spell concatenation.”  
“Are you saying you got all that from us sitting down and eating?”  
“Ah, actually no.” replied Aberforth, “I ascertained all this by observing your actions while you ate. Actions you do and not remember doing.” Seeing Harry was about to say something Aberforth put up his hand to stop Harry and continued with, “For example, your eyes were on the spoon in front of your knife and fork. You used your left hand to measure the distance between your spoon on the table and your lips. Then you opened your lips to reveal white teeth. Then came the rubbing motion you indicated with your right hand. While you were doing all this and eating you were mouthing certain basic commands. Commands that made no sense unless you knew what you were thinking: which I did and knew the commands were all wrong. And that is why I said, ‘You have it wrong.’”  
The twinkle in Aberforth’s eye didn’t make Harry happy so he said, “That’s it?”  
“What did you expect? Magic?”  
Harry opened and closed his mouth several times. He was at a loss for words. Finally he got out, “Something more than a guess.”  
“I suppose at the end of the day it is a bit of a guess, but a guess based upon serious observation, deduction and elementary understanding of what you are doing. Harry, I’m sad to say you are very much like every other boy that has come along since the Beginning. Fortunately it is true which makes Reward Day all even with no one fussing they did not get what they earned.  
“It’s like you make it sound so ordinary.” Harry said in a miffed way.  
“Observation is ordinary. We all do it. The only difference is when I observe I have years and experience behind that observation. Started off playing an observation game with Albus. I’d get stuff and put it on the table and cover it with a sheet. I would uncover the stuff for five seconds and then recover. Now Albus had to tell me everything he saw.” Aberforth leaned a bit closer to Harry so he could poke Harry with his fork and added, “There is a difference between seeing what is on the table and what you think is on the table. We were kids and often we’d find something we didn’t know the proper word for which made the game difficult to do. As we got older we got better at it. I think we were up to about fifty items at ten seconds.  
“Now as to your spell, not good, not good at all. You did not start off with anything worthwhile. For example, you could have started off with a levitation or even a hover charm. Something like that would get the tooth brush up off the wash basin. Or you could have used a cooking spell to levitate and add the ingredients of the tooth paste to the tooth brush. Then you would need to concatenate a distance spell to the levitation spell. I mean to say, you don’t want to have the tooth brush too high or too low: It has to be just right all the time.  
“And don’t forget an Accio spell to get the brush to come to you. I think that is enough to get you on the right path. Or… or you could try mixing in a bit of Latin as in Loginquitas for distance.  
“But why? Why go to Latin, isn’t that a dead language?”  
“Dead… dead! I think not. Maybe used by a few, and taught in good English schools and colleges, but definitely not dead. And remember Latin and Greek are still the base of most wizard commands and that is why it is good to try one of those words in making a new spell. Those languages add power and strength that more modern languages don’t.”  
“But we don’t do languages at Hogwarts” Harry said in an upset voice.  
“You have plenty of spare time on your hands. What else are you doing there?”  
Harry was getting upset at Aberforth until Aberforth started to choke on his food as he tried not to laugh. The more he tried not to laugh the more he coughed and choked. Finally he calmed down enough to say, “Oh Harry, you still rise to the bait.” Aberforth used a big table napkin to wipe his face while he continued to chuckle while Harry mulled over his vulnerability.


	14. Chapter 14

**Monday May 18, 1998 - Evening**

 

The English style of Quidditch is like their English pudding:  
nobody has any taste for them but themselves.

Attributed to Voltaire

 

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was not the sort of place Harry usually hung about. It is the place you quickly go to and even quicker, leave.  
Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts was won Harry had been on a rollercoaster ride. Victory, the trial, the bad news from Australia, the ring ceremony and then the Weasley clan being off limits. He wanted to be with someone his own age, which usually meant Ginny, Ron or Hermione. Now they were off limits Harry had to look elsewhere.  
It wasn’t like Harry could turn up somewhere random and not be noticed. That’s why Harry decided to act rather than be acted upon.  
Harry was trying to stay in the visitor’s tearoom up on the hospital’s fifth floor, but kept popping down to the fourth floor to see if Neville had finished his visit with his parents, Alice and Frank Longbottom. Harry was amazed that Neville could ramble on so long while his parents were oblivious to his words.  
It was while Harry was peaking through the round window on the double swing doors that Neville’s grandmother, Augusta Longbottom got off the escalator, accompanied by a rather distinguished looking gentlemen and exclaimed, “Professor Potter, what are you doing here?”  
Caught off guard Harry quickly regrouped and politely said, “Good evening Mrs. Longbottom. Just waiting for Neville. You know… chat about things.”  
“Things as in girl things? And congratulations, Miss. Weasley is a mighty fine catch; if you survive long enough to marry her. Dodgy family that. Suddenly all they have is bad luck. First it’s Bill; working for Goblins, married a quarter-Veela, and had a marriage ceremony all broke up. That’s a lot of bad luck for one person. Then Charlie is stuck in Rumania studying dragons… that’s what everyone says. I wonder. Percy at the Ministry was a joke; everyone said so and now in a joke shop. Some say Percy is the bad luck joke. Fred had only bad luck as he didn’t have the right stuff. George can only hear out of one ear. That’s really bad luck. Ron is stuck with that know-it-all and then there is you and Ginevra. Maybe you can redeem the family by adding in some of your gook luck.  
“Now what is it you want to see Neville for?” Then she added, “I think he’s finished.” Augusta Longbottom said as she stood on tippi-toes peering through the round window  
The door opened and out came Neville to be greeted by the three of them. His grandmother was first off the mark. “Good to see you are still looking after your parents. One day you will realize the good you are doing here.”  
“Yes grandmother,” Was Neville’s dutiful reply as he wondered what Harry was doing at the hospital.  
Not wanting to waste time Augusta Longbottom turned to her friend and said, “Come along John, our time to visit.” With that the two of them went through the double doors to spend time with her son and his wife.  
Harry looked at Neville and said, “Boy she’s a feisty one.” Quickly followed by, “Who’s the guy?”  
“Good to see you to Harry.” Neville started with. “Gran has put up with a lot and likes to call it as she sees it. I think she is getting worse the older she gets. Something about not enough time to be polite any more.”  
“Got that right.”  
“The guy is her latest boyfriend. She seems to have a string of them all waiting for her to drop a note so they could come over. Things have gotten worse since the battle. That’s why I’m hanging out with the DA’s whenever I can. It’s like she has one guy for a breakfast at some muggle place. Maybe another one for elevenses. Lunch is a must with another guy and maybe another for high tea at the Ritz. She likes being seen there. Then another guy for a formal evening out. Harry, it’s disgusting. Ever since the battle she has so many men on the run that I’m answering the door and owls all the time.” Seeing the look of surprise on Harry’s face Neville added, “Oh, I forgot. You were busy elsewhere. During the battle she was ever where. She might be ‘old, frail, and diminutive,’ her words, not mine, but she knows spells that people only dream of using. She was awful fast and furious. She was after Bellatrix for revenge. I mean she was attacking every death eater to get at Bellatrix. There was just too much fighting going for Gran to cut through it all. That’s when Molly Weasley got there and finished Bellatrix off.”  
“Didn’t know,”  
“That’s not half the story. Gran was mad at Mrs. Weasley for killing Bellatrix that she was cutting her way through to go after Voldemort. And then you came along. Gran is still mad at both of you for killing off the two people she wanted to do in. And that’s why she’s enjoying her new found reputation by keeping a string of suitors in line.”  
“Will she marry any of them?”  
“No chance. She’s enjoying herself too much and loves muggle plays. It’s like a play a night. She’s seen all the West End plays and even prompting some of the actors if they get a line wrong. See, she might be a bit old but her memory is razor sharp. Anyway, enough of my problems, how are you doing and what are you doing here?”  
“Doing good and came to see you. Not had a chance for properly saying thanks for you killing the snake.”  
Neville was a bit puzzled and replied with, “You did the other day… Remember? So what’s going on? Is it Ginny?”  
Harry had to smile. This was Neville and Neville was not to be fobbed off with some old story. This was Neville, the other person the Prophesy could have been applied to. This was Neville who had found his courage and proved his worth by being the only person willing to go toe-to-toe with Lord Voldemort.  
“Yeh, it’s to do with Ginny.”  
Neville hit Harry in the arm and in a triumphal voice said, “Knew it! Gran has been going on about you and Ginny the minute she heard about the ring thing. Never happened before getting married she says. Not right, she also says. Then she fired off an owl to the Ministry asking if it is legal. Silly old boot asking the Ministry. Mean to say, you two are both wizards and old enough to get married.”  
“Not the Ministry… really?” groaned Harry. “It’s like I’m never going to get away from them.”  
“Oh don’t worry, they aren’t that bad.”  
“Not what I’ve seen.”  
“Look Harry, you’re the person that saved the Ministry from Voldemort. You bet you are okay there. Just give them a chance.”  
“Okay, okay… if you say so.” Was Harry’s dubious reply.  
“Come on let’s get out of here.” Neville said as he pushed the down button on the elevator and then strolled out into the London noise. They walked along in silence. The constant noise of London along with the millions of minions in London made it a bit of a challenge to chat. Then Neville dove into a fish and chip shop that looked like it was one chip away from falling down. Neville nodded at the Indian guy in the bright pink turban. The Indian guy said to Neville, “The usual?”  
“Two, this time.”  
“Do you do pea fritters?” Harry asked quickly to which the Indian guy nodded then adding a good smile. “Great, I’ll take one.”  
Neville headed over to an ancient Formica table and two chairs. “This is where I come to get away from Gran. Omar,” nodding toward the chip shop Indian guy, “Has been keeping an eye on me since I can’t remember.”  
“You live about here?”  
“Just round the corner is our family home. Or rather Gran’s home. Mum and dad never got a place of their own. Too much going on back then. Basically grew up about here with me Gran.”  
“How old were you when…” Harry stopped when he realized what he was going to say.  
“That’s okay. I was about a year and a half old. Started out with Gran and granddad. Then I lost my granddad to death eaters. So it’s been me and Gran since them.”  
“So you grew up wizard?”  
“Yeh and nah.” Neville said glancing over Harry’s shoulder at people walking by. “Gran is wizard and this is London. That’s the problem. Her love for the high life of London is well known. That reputation took years of hard work to get.  
“Since she was busy working on her reputation the house-elf and family ghost looked after me.  
“Just around the corner is the infant and junior school I went to. I was nothing special, not a swot, didn’t play games, just squeaked by. Then came the letter from Hogwarts and you know the rest.”  
At that moment Omar came by with their two paper plates and plopped them on the table. He smiled at Neville and whipped out plastic knives and forks. “Enjoy.” Was his only word of encouragement.  
Neville poured on the vinegar , then applied a liberal coating of salt, followed by a substantial dash of more vinegar. Neville dove in attacking his fish first. Harry went for the chips then rounded onto his fish before moving on to his pea fritter. The food was too good for conversation.  
“That was brilliant,” A contented Neville said. Then he added, “You can live pretty well in this corner of London. When I started in the Infants School I met a kid known as Pad, or Paddington. He was adopted by a family living round the other corner. Me and Pad were always getting onto trouble, muggle trouble as Pad was a muggle.”  
“You?” Harry said in a surprised voice. He couldn’t imagine Neville getting into any type of trouble.  
“Yeh, only minor trouble. Usually about Guy Fawkes Day. Love bonfires and fireworks. Our record was setting off five bonfires on November 3rd. Then things got tight about here. Gran hated me hanging about with muggles. With her gone most of the time who else were there? Muggles and that’s where Pad came in. We fitted together and that was it. I guess that’s why I never bothered too much with magic. It got in the way of our normal daily things.  
“As we grew up here, we knew the people here and they knew us. Sort of a second family, except much larger with beady eyes. If we were out on the street someone somewhere was watching us.”  
“So, why wasn’t your Gran interested?”  
“Easy. As she said, she’d done her duty raising her own children. It wasn’t her job to raise her grandchildren.”  
“Wow,” Harry said quietly as he reviewed his own early days at the Dursley’s. Harry was slowly realizing how sort of similar his and Neville’s early days were. How easy the Prophesy could flip flop between the two of them.  
“Her biggest love was and it the theatre and London had theatres by the bucket load. That’s why Gran always went with some gent. She loved dressing up in all the fancy muggle clothes with a gent in top hat and tails. And since I didn’t get any proper instructions I never practiced anything wizard. That’s why I wasn’t ready for Hogwarts and why Gran always fussed at me.” A smile slowly spread across Neville’s face when he added, “Then things changed at school. That’s when I realized someone had to step up and be counted. No one pushed me. Couldn’t fill your shoes. But something had to be done and we did something.  
Just then the small door bell jangled and in stepped Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, Seamus Finnigan, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Ernie Macmillan. They all waved at Omar as they walked back to Harry and Neville. Harry was surprised buy the sudden appearance of the usual suspects.  
“Just stepping down,” Neville said to Omar as he headed to the back of the chip shop. Everyone followed Neville as he went through to the back, up the stairs and into the big room above the chip shop. “Used to be our gang hide-out years ago.” Neville said to no one in particular. “Grab a chair and sit down, we have things to talk about… Right Harry?”  
“Ah, right,” Harry said in an unsure voice.  
Once settled Neville started off with, “The last time we met you asked about Harveture. None of us had heard the word so we started asking our parents and the like. Why don’t you go first and fill us in on what you know and then we will add in our two pennies.”  
Harry looked about the room and the boys slouched about in various positions on the eclectic chairs. Harry took a deep breath and told them all he knew and the fact the book, Harveture for Dummies was all about Harvard University Adventure trips and nothing wizard at all.  
After a lull in the chatter, Neville said, “I’ll go first. All I got from Gran is Harveture is s a guy thing and not to bother her with guy problems. In other words, she’s doesn’t have a clue.”  
Dean Thomas went next. “Sorry Harry, muggle stepfather.”  
Lee Jordan went next. “Dad’s always pulling my leg so I’m not totally sure if he is playing it straight when he said since he’s from Jamaica Harveture doesn’t apply to him. Mum didn’t know anything either. Sorry Harry.”  
Seamus Finnigan went next with, “Me dad’s a muggle. He was let off the hook and married me ma. She had no clue about Harveture.”  
Anthony Goldstein went next with, “Mum is a muggle, a Jew, so dad didn’t have to worry about Harveture. He said it’s overrated at best. Then again he would say it since he never had to worry about it.”  
Michael Corner went next with, “Sorry Harry, I’m from the muggle side of my family. Still wizard, just with muggle parents.  
Terry Boot was next with, “Sorry Harry, see dad is a muggle. Knows no magic at all.”  
Ernie Macmillan was last and everyone knew Ernie was pure-blood at least nine generations deep. Everyone knew it as Ernie made sure everyone knew it in their first weeks of their first year at Hogwarts. Ernie looked from face to face and then began with, “I talked to dad and he thought it a bit early to discuss Harveture. So I told him it was time as I’m dating someone serious like and I want to know the next beg step. Well dad went ballistic saying I was too young to date. That’s when I pointed out I’m one year younger than he was when he got married. Silly twit. Then dad settled down and spilled some beans. Not all the beans, just some.”  
Ernie looked about and could see everyone was eagerly listening. “Okay he said something like this. Harveture was invented after the Beginning when muggles and wizards split. Seems muggles weren’t treating marriage with the proper seriousness. Just like you said Harry. He thinks it was some Russian who thought it all up. Not sure about that, but makes the story more interesting.  
“Anyway, it goes something like this. The boy has to write a formal letter to the father of the girl requesting a Parlay of Harveture. The father has to issue a formal reply. Dad says duty bound by the rules of Harveture to reply.”  
“Wow, even if he don’t like you?” asked Seamus.  
“Dad says has to reply. Which means you better be sure of the girl.” All eyes looked closely at a bright red Harry. Ernie continued with, “Has to reply. Once the reply is accepted the boy proposes three dates each lasting a week. The dad can accept any one or propose an alternate date and an alternate duration. Dad says that’s when you find out how you stand. If the dad comes back asking for two or more weeks you are in deep trouble. Dad says two weeks means the father is going to pull you feet first through the ringer.”  
“Did your dad say that’s ever happened?” A concerned Michael Corner asked.  
“Dad said he knew of three people. They all moved to Australia as they were toast over here. Dad said I’d better be sure before requesting a Parlay of Harveture. He said if I’m not serious he’ll brain me before putting me into St. Mungo’s for a few months R&R.”  
“R&R?”  
“Yeh, rest and recovery. You don’t cross dad and get away with it for to long. Then he’d send me to Australia: never to return.”  
“You kidding?”  
“Nope: dead serious. Double checked by getting with grandpa on me ma’s side. He’s old, seriously old. He said it was worse in his day and we have it too easy.  
“Grandpa on me dad’s side said he did a week with dad before letting dad lose with the father of the girl. Grandpa wanted to see if dad could handle everything he could throw at dad. Dad never talked about his time with grandpa. Then grandpa said they did away with the second week years ago so now it’s only one week with the girl’s dad.”  
Harry jumped to his feet and started pacing about and running his hands through his messy hair. This news was not good news: not good at all. Seems what Bill said was true. “Okay, what’s supposed to happen during the week?” Harry quickly asked.  
“Dad says it was rough, really rough on him. He thought it was a week. The Parlay of Harveture documents said a week. Trouble was it ended up at ten days. Dad said he barely made it out alive. The girl’s father hated him that much. That’s why dad says you better be sure the girl’s worth it.”  
“And if you fail?”  
“Dad says keep on going to Australia. And never come back.”  
A serious quietness descended on the boys as Harry kept pacing about.  
“Why did your grandpa, the one on your mother’s side, make it ten days?”  
“He didn’t think dad was good enough for his daughter. So he moved the goal posts.”  
“Just like that?”  
“Yep, just like that. Seems there are no hard and fast rules once the week has started. Whatever the old man says… you do or fail to do.”  
“And if you fail?”  
“Better go to Australia and stay there.”  
“Okay, okay, okay…” A frustrated Harry cut in with, “What did your grandpa actually get your dad to do? I mean to say, he must have succeeded as you are here? Give me details.”  
“That’s what is weird. What dad says is not the same grandpa says. Like they’re not even close. Grandpa says he had dad run one day as in all day. Going up and down mountainsides. Dad says it was long walks with a backpack full of big stones. Grandpa says they went to Gringotts to count out the family money. Dad says they looked at the family legers. Grandpa says he made dad cook every meal. Dad says they had the family elf bring in food each day. See what I mean, not even close.”  
“He can do all that?”  
“Oh, that’s not even getting started. Dad’s family is not all that wealthy so grandpa wanted to know if dad could build a log cabin for his daughter. Which means dad had to build a log cabin.”  
“Just like that?”  
“Yep, just like that. And without any magic. And it’s still standing. Mum loves visiting it. Says that’s love in action.”  
“Then there’s the ring, the cutlery, the plate design, milking the cow, wizard dueling, spell defenses, levitation spells and onto Quidditch. Grandpa was a keen fan of Puddlemere United while dad followed Wimbourne Wasps. Well that did it. Dad said they had countless arguments about which team was better. Arguments that went of for days. Dad says there was time grandpa made up something just to keep dad busy as grandpa was still fuming over the teams. The only thing they could agree on was how pathetic the Chudley Cannons were.  
Harry slammed his hand against a wall in frustration. “That’s what gets me. They can ask you anything. Anything as in anything.”  
“Hay Harry, calm down.” Dean said, “We’re all in this together. Not like we’re all going to marry a muggle just to get out of Harveture.” Dean looked about and noted the looks of the other boy’s faces. He than added, “Are we?”  
“Don’t know about you lot,” Seamus added, “A muggle girl would be mighty nice right about now. Could you imagine Cho’s dad? Like, he’s a traditional Chinese guy with a love of swards.” Harry was about to blurt out, ‘How do you know?’ but thought better of it. Some things are better not asked. “Not the sort of person I’d like to spend a traditional week with!” There was a general nodding of heads illustrating Harveture was not exactly the flavor of the month.  
Then Ernie added, “Can’t be all that bad. Mean to say, we’re all here.”  
“Didn’t you listen,” Seamus cut back with, “All except you are from muggle-Wizard families. We’re not pure-blood.”  
“Yeh, I heard. So what? If I date only muggles then I should marry one. If I date only witches, then I should marry one and face Harveture.” Then Ernie added, “Hard or soft choice… that’s how I see it.”  
“Not like that,” Michael said and then paused. “Mum says we have to find the right one. And we shall know when we have found that person. And that’s the one to marry.”  
“You think there is only one right person?” queried Terry.  
“Mum says so. But I don’t know. I once asked Slughorn the same question. He said he was too busy and took off. Think I scared him. Tried Lupin and he said yes. Then he added, maybe depending on age. Not sure what he meant by that. Lockhart just smiled and said there is too many fish in the sea to worry about the first one you see. Even tried Firenze for fun. All he did was look at the stars and talk about a shooting star that was passing by. So I don’t know.”  
Anthony finally tossed out, “I grew up Jew and as a Jew I’m supposed to marry a Jew. You know how many Jewish witches there are?” No one replied as everyone was studying the floor or ceiling. “Let me tell you there are exactly ten in London and twelve in all of Great Britain. If I include all of Europe I get to twenty-five or so. That’s slim pickings. Dad has a dossier on each one. All Jewish fathers do. And that’s all they do. Pairing this boy with this girl. They discuss what color hair their grand kids would have; type of teeth; tall or short; fat or skinny; and on and on. It’s like a meat market swapping people in and out all the time.  
“Every month dad would update my dossier with how I was doing at Hogwarts. To make sure every girl’s parents knew I was a good catch. I think he over did the battle. Said I was all over the place. Not exactly the thing I’d like to do again: but if I have to I’d be there.”  
“Why do you have to marry a Jew?”  
“That’s the way it is if you are a Jew. Someone has to carry on the faith? So why not me?”  
“Yeh, but what if you fall in love with a muggle Jew? Is that okay?”  
Anthony thought for a moment then replied with, “That’s fine for me as I’m a half-blood. If I was pure-blood I think it would be different. Don’t know, never asked.”  
“I think there is a Jewish family in Godric’s Hollow,” Harry added as he remembered something as he flipped through the book on the village he picked up from Dumbledore’s tomb. Anthony quickly looked at Harry with renewed interest. “Goldburg was their name. At least I think they are Jewish.”  
“Thanks Harry,” Anthony said, “I’ll look into them. Don’t remember any Jews living down that way. Then again, you never know who’s moving in or out.”  
“What about Hogwarts?”  
“None during our time. Well, there was two who graduated when we were in our second year. Too old. Right now there is two going into their second year and a new girl coming in as a first year. Way too young.”  
“You have it all down pat.”  
“Have to. Like I said, pickings are slim and mum is busy looking at every possibility.”  
“Do you want to marry a witch?”  
“Yeh why not?” Anthony said, “So hard always trying to explain to mum all the wizard things going on. Like she’s missing out on half the story. Like dad made me promise never to tell mum everything that happened during the battle. Dad says some times things are better not said for the good of the family. Don’t want to go through all that keeping secrets from the wife. Better as a team together I think.”  
“I never saw you at church”  
“Synagogue,” Anthony said with pride, “Not church. Dumbledore let me go to Synagogue in Glasgow as there wasn’t one at Hogwarts.”  
“Oh, that’s why you were never at church.”  
“Glasgow, Dumbledore let you go to Glasgow… every week?”  
“Yeh. Small congregation though. Some of the old women would ask me back to their place for a traditional meal. They liked the company. Also a way for me to keep up on the local gossip which we never hear here at Hogwarts. Like the three Love girls are thinking of coming to Hogwarts now Harry here is going to be a professor. They are known as the three Ahhh girls. Athena, Natasha and Saryah.”  
“Really?” a revived Harry asked.  
“For me the trouble is they are muggle witches.”  
“I thought you said that’s okay.”  
“Okay as in okay after I’ve gone through every Jew on the planet. Sometimes I think mum wants me to marry a Jew, any Jew, while dad is edging more for a witch: any witch.”  
“Messy.”  
“Not messy,” said Anthony, “Just getting mixed signals from mum and dad.”  
“Why don’t you just go for what you fancy?”  
“What do you think I’m doing?” There was a ripple of laughter to Anthony’s sure comment. “Going to be me getting married and having to live with the girl, not them.”  
“Good point.”  
“Do you think there is only one girl out there Harry?” Anthony asked.  
Harry kicked back and thought of Ginny. It was a good thought. “For me I know there is only one girl. Sort of known it a long time.” Then he gathered his thoughts and continued with, “That’s for me. Not sure if that is true for everyone. Like I said, Ginny and I have known each other and from the same house. Now Cho was different. The second Harry mentioned Cho he had everyone’s close attention. Harry never mentions Cho these days. “She’s Ravenclaw and I’m Gryffindor. That could have been a problem…”  
“You think so?” Someone asked.  
“Could be. Not saying it would be, just could be. I mean to say, why make life difficult? Life’s difficult enough without doing something silly and making it worse.”  
You think marrying a Ravenclaw is making life more difficult?”  
“Maybe and maybe not. Why risk it?” Harry glanced about noticing the serious looks on the various faces. “Look,” Harry added, “I’ve had enough problems and would like a simple life. I know it’s not going to happen as kids can be a handful. So why make problems that I can miss? Then I’ve got time to work on problems I have to work on.  
“By marrying Ginny I’m starting off pretty good. Like if Anthony here marries a Jew, he has a better chance of having a smooth time since they would be of the same faith doing the same things. That way you pull together not against each other.”  
“You sound like me mammy,” Seamus added. “She’s a Catholic witch and married a Catholic wizard. Said its stupid marrying a Protestant wizard as she would be kicked out of the family. Then she used a rolling pin to make sure I knew to marry a Catholic witch or else.”  
“Harry, what are you?”  
“Nothing really. C of E I suppose. I mean, the Dursley’s took me to Christmas and Easter services. Then I did the same at Hogwarts along with Chapel.” Harry paused for a moment as he remembered something. “As a teenager Dudders tried getting into the local C of E church choir as they paid money. He didn’t get in as didn’t have robes that big. That’s it really. Suppose if Ginny goes then I’ll go and we’d raise the kids that way.”  
The general discussion entered a lull as the boys thought about what had been said. Topics rarely raised, reviewed, or ruminated over.  
It was Neville that broke the silence with, “So, are we clear about Harveture?”  
“No,” muttered Dean and Lee together. Dean continued with, “Don’t like it. Think its old fashioned and out of date with us today. Look at what’s going on today. Things are changing and getting better. Why do we have to go backwards?”  
“Then why go to Hogwarts?” Harry asked.  
“Got to, don’t we,” Terry muttered.  
“Not me, I wanted to get away from the Dursley’s and Hogwarts was it.”  
“Not me,” Terry replied. “Had good schools where I was. All me muggle mates went to the local Secondary Modern. I wanted to go and then the letter from Hogwarts came and everything changed.”  
The knock on the door startled everyone and then the door opened and Mrs. Hudson stepped in carrying a very large tray for such a thin person. “Just remember I’m not you housekeeper but since you have such nice friends over I thought a pot of tea and a few rock buns would be nice.” After looking about Neville quickly jumped up and made room on the battered and well stained coffee table. Neville quickly added, “You needn't have bothered Mrs. Hudson.”  
“You are so right Neville. But I did and here you are.” She glanced about the room and added, “My, you all look so young, hansom and tidy. You dress properly and Mr. Longbottom is such a gent it is a privilege knowing him. Not like the last two fellows. Always up to mischief, in and out at all hours of the night. A right bothersome pair. Well, the short one was nice in a cuddly way. Nice wife too…”  
Neville cut in, as he usually did as Mrs. Hudson does like to ramble on a bit, with, “That’s really nice of you, but you shouldn’t.”  
“Oh, I know I shouldn’t but some of you look a big peaky and could do with some skin on your bones.”  
That’s when Terry asked, “Mrs. Hudson, what do you think about marriage?”  
“Oh, I definitely believe in it. Trouble is finding the right one. Mean to say, not exactly successful myself. Take the first husband, Mike. Totally useless in finding a job. Always on the scrounge. Even got to the point he would raid my purse for a pound or two for a pint down at the local. Put up with that for ten or was it eleven years. Then I woke up one day, packed my things and left him still at home with his silly old mum and dad. Best thing I’ve ever done. Then along comes Frank. Such a sweetheart and good on his toes. He could dance the night away. And we did more times than I care to remember. He was so light on his pins and loved to show off doing tap dancing. Things you boys should learn. Brings in the girls, if you know what I mean!”  
“Mrs. Hudson!” Neville said in a very surprised tone.  
“Don’t come over all hoity-toity Neville. I might be old but I still can hear you carrying on up here with your lady friends.” Turning to the others Mrs. Hudson added, “He has a string of them. Coming and going all hours of the day and night. Regular Piccadilly Circus it is about here.”  
“Mrs. Hudson!” Neville said again.  
“It’s alright Neville, you secret is safe with me. Cross my heart,” which she did, “I shall take your secret to the grave. Present company excepted.”  
Just as Mrs. Hudson was leaving someone asked, “So what happened to your second husband?”  
“Oh he was a silly fool. Got messed up in drugs and was executed in Florida. I sort of left the country quickly and returned to London. I mean, Florida is nice, lots of sand, great Cuban music to dance to. But London is best and I’m closer to my son Michael and his family.”  
“So, you think marriage is okay, even after all that?”  
“What a silly question. Of course marriage is right and proper. How else are you going to have children? Just because I had a few bumps along the road it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it again if mister right walked through the door and swept me off my feet.”  
Then Mrs. Hudson asked Seamus, “How are the rock buns deary?” As he was attacking the buns with some vigor. “Pop by on your way out and I’ll give you a few to go.” With that Mrs. Hudson swept out closing the door quietly behind her.  
“Who’s she?”  
“The landlady.” Neville said, “She owns the building and lives upstairs. This was designated a safe house during Voldemort’s time. She’s used to odd people coming and going… not girls only.”  
“Right Neville. All hours of the day and night.”  
“Look, you lot, are here. See any girls? No. Let’s leave it at that.”  
Harry smiled to himself as he saw his own reaction to girl’s vis-à-vis Ginny. “Okay Neville, calm down. No one is claiming you are running a harem out of this room above a chip shop. It’s the way Mrs. Hudson said it that’s so funny. So sincere and straight.  
Michael was standing over by the window staring out into the busy London street. In a thoughtful tone he said, “Does anyone remember Ellison? Not Ellison, I mean Ellerton. No, Elliot?” Getting no reply Michael continued with, “He used to say, ‘We know various spells and enchantments, minor forms of potions, divination and chiromancy. But the circle of our understanding is a very restricted area, except for a limited number of hexes of strictly practical purposes. Usually we don’t know what we are doing. And even, when we think of it, we don’t know much about thinking. Hogwarts has given us tools, surface deep, for us to develop the rest of our lives.’ I remember it as if it was yesterday. It was right before George launched his rocket propelled stink bombs from the Owlery ”  
After the laughter died down Harry added, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you lot. Life is a series of tests. Just like you said… another test of what we learned at Hogwarts and what are we going to do with it.”  
To which Lee said, “Me, I’m going to keep the stuff I need and toss the rest out. It stands to reason there is only so much you can keep memorized. Put too much in and something has to fall out. So why clutter up your mind?”  
“Like Snape did?”  
“Exactly! Snape was bloody brilliant at potions but useless in divinations and ancient runes. Said it was useless stuff when you can cause instant love, luck, or suspended animation.”  
“Are you going to put in the time he did to get that good?”  
“You bet. Been assembling stuff at home so I can practice. And there is an old wizard down the dell who said he would help me get started.”  
A startled Harry had to ask, “You liked Professor Snape’s class?”  
Lee’s harsh laugh was followed with, “Hell no. Snape might be a great potions master, after that not much else. Ever try talking to him, normal like? All you got was your head being bitten off. He was pretty much useless outside class. That’s why no one, not even a Slytherin, really liked him.”  
Finally Harry plucked up courage to ask Ernie, “Hay Ernie… do you think it’s okay if I pop round and ask your dad for help. Need to do that Parlay of Harveture thing.”  
Ernie cocked his head to one side as he thought. Then he said, “Let me pop home and ask.” With that Ernie Macmillan disapparated in a flash. He was only gone a few minutes and then back. “Ah, Harry. Dad’s not too keen on you coming over. Said it’s better of you use the Hogwarts library. Should be good examples of the rules and regulations for a Parlay of Harveture.” Then he added, “Sorry about that.”  
After getting over the shock, Harry said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it done.”  
Up jumped Neville who quickly said, “I can help. Not much going on and I need to learn that stuff for when it’s my turn.”  
That’s when Seamus added, “What about me? I have to do it too!” And from then it snowballed and Harry said, “Okay, let’s go by the Hog’s Head to get something to eat. Slim pickings at Hogwarts.”  
“Still cleaning?”  
“Yep. Should be finished soon. Then everyone will be off for summer and should be quiet again.”  
“Any chance we could come by and practice?” Neville asked  
“You’ve got a home Neville.”  
“Gran isn’t keen me hanging about now I’ve graduated.” Neville said in a very flat voice. “Says I should move out. Go find my own flat. Mingle with people and see that muggles are okay people. Just can’t see that happening. Had too much fun at school despite what you lot might think. Being yelled at by Snape was way better than growing up on London with a house-elf and a grumpy old family ghost. I like being a wizard… okay, not a great wizard, but a wizard that’s graduated from Hogwarts. I like it. Then I’ll settle down at the botanical gardens and learn the trade. But in the meanwhile why not practice stuff we can’t anywhere else. Mean to say, where else is there a place that big we can do stuff in and not be seen? That’s why it’s called a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And we need schooling.”  
Harry liked listening to Neville go on like this. Harry always thought Neville should become a great debater as he had a way with words. Words strung together that sounded like poetry and poetry that made sense.  
“See you lot at the Hog’s Head.” Terry Boot said as he disapparated.  
Ever since the Dark Lord was vanquished, Hogsmeade had sprung back to life with a vengeance. Shuttered up shops were open. Dilapidated dwellings were spick and span. Roads were usable once again and drainage ditches cleaned out. There was pride in the place as the only all-wizarding village in Britain bustled with witches and wizards coming and going.


	15. Chapter 15

Monday May 18, 1998 - Evening

 

It is the folly of too many to mistake the echo of the  
Quidditch field for the voice of the kingdom.

Attributed to Jonathan Swift

 

Despite all the good changes there are some things that would never change and that is why Mundungus Fletcher was being escorted out of Hogsmeade: yet again. Dung was set in his ways and refused to accept the death of the Dark Lord meant change. He was still scratching a living by hawking useless stuff for cold hard cash by saying it cures all known ailments; will bring you good luck; or help your family rise up the social ladder. Sadly his best selling items, those that were supposed to protect against the Dark Lord and his followers had been pulled off the market since the death of Voldemort made this line useless and was currently undergoing recycle to something sellable. For Dung nothing is ever thrown away if it could be used one day.  
The minute Dung saw Harry he tried to disapparate. He was not fast enough. Harry caught him in a full body-bind curse. With Dung frozen Harry was in no rush to talk to him.  
Prying the bag from his hand, Harry tossed the contents onto the street for closer inspection. Then Harry riffled Dung’s capacious outside pockets before the smaller and secret inner pockets. Harry was looking for his stuff, the stuff Dung took from Grimmauld Place. Stuff he wanted back in the house.  
The boys grouped about Dung as Harry poked through the junk that Dung was carrying. None was his. “Hi Dung,” Going down on one knee, Harry said in a calm even toned voice, “As always good to see you are busy being a supporter of true wizard ways. As a forgiving soul, and since Tom Riddle is dead, I think it is time to call it evens. I mean, I shouldn’t carry any grudges now things are getting back to normal… should I?” Harry could see Dung’s eyes bouncing about in their sockets. “So I would like to make a proposition to you. One that I hope you will think as fair. It goes like this. I’m willing to forgive you for deserting your post for a good deal on some cauldrons. I can also forgive you for desertion letting Mad-Eye Moody getting killed. And I can forgive you for stealing items from 12 Grimmauld Place.” There was a general murmur of surprise in Harry’s generosity toward Dung.  
“Obviously to be worthy of all that forgiveness, there should be something in return. To be truly penitent I would expect you to turn over a new leaf and make restitution. Without those two how can you say sorry and mean it?  
“Now I’m pretty sure you can turn over a new leaf, settle down, and become a solid member of the wizarding world. Not going to be easy, Bit I think you can do it.  
“Restitution will be hard. Can’t really make restitution for desertion. Wasn’t your fault cauldrons came along or Moody got in the way of a curse; was it? But it was your choice to steal the stuff from my house.  
“Being fair, I shall let you make full restitution with no hard feelings. That way mercy doesn’t rob justice of her own. Now, I can’t make it any fairer than that.  
“To keep you focused I’m willing to give you a charm bracelet set to five years. If restitution is not made by then, then you become a ward of Grimmauld Place. I hope all that’s clear.” With that Harry waved his wand in a complex motion as he mentally said the spell Opus, Totellus, Chronosellium. The bright green bracelet slowly appeared about Dung’s right wrist where it could easily be seen and never removed. On the bracelet formed a count down clock appeared in it that was already down to 4 years, 364 days, 23 hours and 56 minutes.  
Then Harry did a simple counter-curse to release Dung from his full body-bind curse. Dung jumped to his feet, looked Harry straight in the face and let out the loudest, “No!” Harry had ever heard. Once said Dung disapparated to parts unknown.  
“Wow, that’s radical,” Michael Corner said.  
“Deserved it and more, if you ask me.” Neville added  
“Dung will never change.” Harry said sadly, “Just want my godfather’s stuff back. He shouldn’t have stolen it in the first place.”  
“Do you think he’ll do it?”  
“That’s his choice.” Then Harry added, “You don’t want to be the ward of a building. That’s worse than how house-elves are treated. And you can’t ever leave the building.”  
Just as Harry started to walk toward the Hog’s Head a ginormous owl came zooming down the street, about head height, did a tight loop and landed right in front of Harry. The owl lifted up its leg and Harry removed the parchment. As a reward Harry dropped a few coins in the owls pouch and then read the neatly printed message from Gossiter.

Dear Sir:

We arrive Australia and found Miss Granger. Shortly thereafter Mr. Weasley appeared. Miss Granger is reviving her spirits while Mr. Weasley is in the dog house. Will keep you informed as plans are made.

Yours,

Gossiter

Harry was very glad Gossiter wrote. Even though it was a brief note, any note was better than what had been happening. Harry stuffed the letter into his pocket and with revived spirits joined the others at the as they headed into the Hog’s Head.  
“Wondered where you were,” Aberforth said as Harry entered last of all. “You lot can’t keep away. You should be gone on holiday somewhere.”  
“We will once school is out,” Neville said.  
“It is out,”  
“Out early, not the proper time. So technically we are still in school.”  
“Technically you lot are nuts, that what you are. Now, what are you lot up to? Coming by for a late night Butterbeer?”  
“See if we can pick up some supplies for a few days up at Hogwarts. Have some research to do.”  
“Harveture?”  
A startled Harry shot back with, “Who told you?”  
Aberforth gave a hearty laugh, “You lot are such an open book. It happens just about every year. Stuff parents are supposed to teach children: but never do. Parents expect Hogwarts to teach Harveture but never do as it’s a parent responsibility. So just like you lot, kids come back looking for answers.”  
“Do you have answers?”  
Aberforth stiffened a bit then said, “Father was taken to Azcaban. We never had time for that father - son talk. I did what you lot are doing, looking for answers in the Hogwarts library.”

Morning, Tuesday May 19, 1998

The breakfast was light as there was a general eagerness to head to the library. Rather than wait for the slow pokes, Anthony Goldstein took off early to find a good book to read. When the others arrived in the library Anthony was still looking for the Harveture section. “Hay you lot. Where would you put the Harveture books?”  
“Dating.” Someone said.  
“Family life.” Another added.  
“Duty.”  
“Responsibility.”  
“You lot are nuts.” Said Miss Evangelista. “Look in the card index.” The girls voice cut through the air faster than a two edged sward. “Typical boys.” Miss Evangelista muttered as she disappeared amongst the books.  
“Hay…” Yelled out Anthony, “What are you doing here?” As he dodged after the fast moving librarian.  
“Excuse me, are you talking to me?” Miss Evangelista said over her shoulder as she kept looking for something.  
“Yes. What are you doing here? We thought this place was empty.”  
“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you.”  
“So what are you doing then?”  
“Despite you lot poking about, some of us have real work to do. We have to be ready for next year.”  
“So where are you staying?”  
“That is privileged information.” Miss Evangelista said, then suddenly turned around and in a clear voice said, while poking Anthony in the chest with her rather long pencil, “You are not privileged to know stuff like that.” Then she turned back to the bookcase, reached up and pulled down a rather thin book. “Here, look at this. Then leave it on a table so I can put it away in its proper place. Now, leave me alone to do important things and not worry about silly boy stuff.” With that Miss Evangelista flicked her head about to give full effect of her hair flowing through the light as she turned and left the area.  
Anthony rejoined the others who were poking through the card catalogue. “She is something else.” Muttered Anthony as he handed Harry the book. “She said this should be good. Called Harveture For You.”  
“You read it and let me know what it says. I think we’ve found the other books.” Harry said. Once found each boy grabbed at least one book and headed for a soft chair. For a change the readers were actually interested in the books rather than the school books they slogged through upon pain of failure. Every now and again one of the boys would exclaim, “No way!” or “Hell no!” or “Crap!”  
The reading continued until lunchtime when people slowly drifted down to the great hall for a snack then carry on reading about the grand fire.  
Slowly book after book closed and glum looks were everywhere. When the last book closed Neville got to his feet and started walking about. Dean Thomas joined him as they walked about. Finally Harry said, “Okay, what have we learnt?”  
“That’s easy: we’re toast… burnt toast.” Lee Jordan ground out. “Don’t like it at all. This Harveture business is rotten stuff. Mean to say, should be taught at Hogwarts.”  
“Just have to face it or else.” Neville said  
“I’m going to look for a good muggle girl. Loads out there to find.” Dean muttered.  
“But why? If our parents, or grandparents, or what ever, did it, then we can do it.” Neville came back with.  
“Don’t care about them, I have to choose it or not. If I go with a muggle then I don’t have to face this stupid Harveture.”  
“Hang on a moment,” Harry said, “Who else has a girlfriend?” He asked. As he looked about he could clearly see he was the only one. “You lot are blowing smoke. You aren’t there yet. Just wait and you will be singing a different tune.”  
“Blah, all over rated stuff.” Someone said.  
“Like I said, you lot wait.” Harry said, “Okay, what have we learnt?”  
“Been about for ever and it’s the father’s job to get the son ready. Definitely a patriarchal thing. If there is no dad then it falls to the grandfather or next closest male relative to do the instructions.”  
“And how the instruction went was up to the father. Seems there was nothing standard about Harveture instruction.”  
“The letter has to follow a specific format or can be rejected. Get it right and the father has to reply. That is the official starting point of it all.”  
“And that,” Harry said in a sure voice, “Is why everyone is saying you better know the girl is the right one. Or go to Australia.”  
“You think Harry? You think it’s doable?”  
“I think that’s what it’s all about. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we do it. Simple as that. Ginny is worth it so I shall be writing the letter and sending if off. If not, what do I do? Go to Australia in shame and loose my good name? No! I plan to do it, just like I knew it was going to be me or Riddle. Someone had to go. If I can do that I can do this. I mean to say, I’m not going to face an Avada Kedavra am I?”  
“Yeh, that’s okay for you…”  
“I’m nothing special. Just a boy from parents that were killed. All the rest was luck and good friends to help. Don’t ever think I’m special.”  
“You think we can do it?”  
“Only if you put your heart into it. I think that’s the point. If she is worth it then you would do anything possible to win her hand.”  
“Guess so.” Thought Neville. Then he turned to Lee and said, “Right?”  
“Right, what do you mean right?”  
“Right as in you agree… Right?”  
“Okay, maybe. Just maybe.”  
“Okay, all right, after lunch I’m going to do the letter. I’m going to face the future and go for it.”  
“But you aren’t supposed to tell us what happens. That’s part of Harveture I don’t like. You can’t help us out.”  
“That’s where your dad is supposed to come in.”  
“I know that, but doesn’t help if he can’t help.”  
“That’s where I have to draw the line.” Harry said, “To tell you what happens is going to violate the rights and ordinances of Harveture. I’m not willing to cross that line. So, sorry guys what ever happens during Harveture stays in the family: my family.”  
“At least you can tell us about the letter, right?”  
“Oh yes, the letter and everything up to the time I leave,” Harry said in a glum voice. “And if you don’t see me back, then send an owl to Australia as that’s where I guess I’ll be.”  
In the afternoon Harry took off to Professor Snape’s office to find some peace and quiet to compose his Parlay of Harveture. Harry closed the office door, sat in the chair, pulled out a new parchment and sat there… thinking about Ginny. He was thinking that this was the beginning of the future. This formal letter will start the process of becoming one with Ginny.  
Harry pulled out a quill, dipped it on ink and stopped. A sudden chill ran up and down his back. He shook it off and pushed on to create his Magnum opus. Harry did it by using a guide in one of the books they found in the library.  
Then he sat back, read it through, then realized it was junk. It was word correct but crap English. He knew he had to do it all over again. Harry pulled out another blank parchment, dipped the quill in the ink and stopped. He was trying to clear his mind and use the book as a guide, not as a road map. Harry got to work.

Dear Sir:  
After much consideration and deep thought I am hereby requesting Parlay of Harveture with respect to Ginevra Weasley.  
Miss. Weasley and I plan to get married within the next two months because we love each other and plan to become husband and wife for time and all eternity.  
As you know this is a major step for both of us, one I hope you will bless by using your father’s rights as given from the Beginning.  
As we honor your rights we request reciprocal rights to make our own choice in life and in death: from the Beginning and into the eternities.

Yours

Harry Potter.

Harry read over it one last time and pronounced it as done. With that Harry pushed the chair back, put his feet up on the desk. Absentmindedly he fished about for his wand. He pulled out Snape’s old wand. He knew it wasn’t his wand as it felt different and moved differently in his hand.  
“Hallo there. Been a while since you have been out in this room.” Harry said as he slowly moved the wand about, testing it like. “Let’s see if there is anything here for you to show me.” With that Harry quickly got to his feet and started to move about the room in a deliberate manner. Harry was slowly understanding that searching has to be done systematically, not in some random manner. He walked about keeping the wand out in front, not waving it about in a deliberate fashion, sort of letting the wand do what it wanted to do. As he moved about the room, the wand would want to move in a specific direction. Harry pushed on covering the entire room before getting sidetracked on paths dictated by the wand.  
Once surveyed Harry sat down and pulled out his well used Moleskin notebook. Some things are better written down… just in case. He snapped the notebook closed, put the band about it and popped it back into his moleskin bag. Moleskin on moleskin was the way Harry always thought of them.  
Then Harry picked up Snape’s wand and let it do the leading. As he walked about the wand kept pointing to the center of the room. Rhetorically Harry asked, “Why do you want to go there? Are you seeing something I’m not?” Harry skirted about the center of the room. As far as he could tell it was an open area. If there was one thing Harry had learnt at Hogwarts, nothing is as it seems. It looked like an open area; it felt like an open area; but the question is, what is an open area doing in an over cluttered office that desperately needs more room? Or to look at it from Professor Dumbledore’s point of view, ‘the best place to hide something is in plane view of everyone. That way no one can see it.’ The oxymoron was playing on Harry’s mind as he thought about the open space. As oxymoron’s go, Professor Snape was not known to use them. He was a more ‘in your face’ type person. Then again, Harry thought the worst while Professor Dumbledore thought the best of the same person.  
Standing aside the open area Harry slowly moved Snape’s wand from side to side. He did that for a few moments before the wand started to disagree with the motions. The wand had a mind of its own and pushed Harry’s hand into a much more complex set of motions. The motions continued and as they continued Harry started to get a clue of what it meant. Even though he had never seen Parseltongue written down he knew what he was creating in the middle of Snape’s room was Parseltongue of a very old age. Somehow he knew it. He knew it in his bones, his fingers and in every fibre of his being. As he wrote in the air, the words were forming in his mind. The words slowly became clearer and clearer until they were complete. ‘Welcome to all Parseltongue’s who want to enter. The way is open, if you are penitent, speak without guile, and can see clearly.’  
Once the word were firm the door started to form in the middle of the space in Professor’s Snap’s office. The faint outline was slowly taking on form and substance. The outline took on the form of stone surrounding a door. The stone slowly filled in to form a Gothic arch of high proportions with two gargoyles, one atop each side of the vertical section. The door was blood red with a brass ring as the door handle. Last to form was the brass door knocker formed by two intertwining snakes. Once the door was formed the wand went limp and Harry stood there looking at a fully formed door right in the middle of Professor Snape’s office.  
With two lead feet Harry stood there taking in the view. Somehow he forced his feet to move and managed to walk around to the other side of the door. Somehow, somewhere Harry was wondering if the other side would put him inside whatever the door opened to. Of course the other side of the door was exactly the same. Same surrounding, same gargoyles, same colour, same door handle and knocker. A doppelganger door if there ever was one.  
Even buried deep in the castle Harry heard the three crashes on the Hogwarts oak doors. It was like Thor himself was demanding entrance. He heard but did not hear as this door captivated, enthralled, beguiled and consumed Harry. Carefully Harry raised his hand and touched the door. The magic rubbed off onto his hand. He felt it on his fingers and lifted his hand to his face to smell the smells.  
That is when the sound of Thor walking up the stairs causing a crash on each step registered in the back of Harry’s mind. It was there, but not really. Everything changed when Thor hammered on Professor Snape’s office door. The tremendous noise, the sheer volume, the door almost buckling under each crash. Harry jumped six inches at the sound of the noise on the door. As he turned round the office door burst open and there stood Viktor Krum in all his Bulgarian glory with a face that said it all. He was mad, really mad.  
Pointing his heavy staff at Harry, he boomed with, “Mister Potter, I am here to forbid you, yes, forbid you, to become here a professor. This is not for you. You are a seeker, a good seeker… Okay, an average seeker. That could be a great seeker if you come with me and join my team.” Harry was stunned at seeing Krum standing there in his thick coat, tall boots and his heavy Durmstrang staff, telling him what to do as if he was some school boy to boss around.  
Harry was so surprised all he could think of was, “What? What are you doing here?”  
“Here I am to save you.” Krum said then he used his staff to pound the floor adding emphasis to his words and passion. “You,” he yelled out, “are to be a great seeker with my help.” he said as he bashed on his own chest to show how tough he was. Then he continued with, “A great seeker if not one of the best. With you on the team we shall succeed as never before.” Once finished Krum stood his ground glaring at Harry.  
Seeing the giant of a seeker was finished, Harry retorted with, “Viktor, are you off your rocker? There is no way I am going to become a seeker for you.” Then Harry suddenly remembered the noise and asked, “Was that you making all that noise downstairs?”  
“That was I demanding entrance. I am here to stop you being a professor and for why you lie about Miss Weasley? You are not big, yes jealous, but small as in a seeker, just like Miss. Weasley. But Miss. Weasley is not what I am about. I, Viktor Krum, are here to tell you to be my seeker, yes, my seeker to make the Chudley Cannons a great success yet again.”  
The concept of Krum running the Chudley Cannons was so bazaar that Harry stood there and started to laugh. Harry struggled to contain the laughter but failed. He sat on the side of the desk laughing and holding his side as it started to hurt as the concept of Krum and the Cannons being remotely associated together was beyond belief.  
“Why you laugh? Why you think this is funny? You think that I, Viktor Krum, the greatest seeker in the Bulgarian National Quidditch team’s history can not save the Cannons?”  
“Viktor, they are at the bottom and will forever stay at the bottom as they don’t have two galleon to rub together.”  
“That is where wrong you are. My father has bought the team and I, Viktor Krum are the new manager. I look at you to be the seeker. Then we go forward and conquer the British and Irish League before going on to the All Europe Tournament. There we will be victorious and become the pride of many people. Then we repeat again until every team fears the Chudley Cannons. That is what I am looking for. That is why I am here to talk to you and you join with me so we start training right now.” Krum looked about the office and asked, “Where is your broomstick?”  
“ Broke.”  
“Broke? So how you get about?”  
“Walk, Floo powder or Apparate. The usual stuff.”  
“But… but… but that is all wrong!” Krum stuttered out. “How you become a great seeker if you don’t use your broom all the time. We at Durmstrang and the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team live with our broom all the time. How else are you to be good? To bed, to shower, to class, to meals, to everything we go by broom. That way you are good. Then we start work on becoming better. How you do it here at Hogwarts?”  
“We practice.”  
Drawing himself up to his full height, Krum replied with, “That is all? Practice?”  
“Yes that is all.” Harry replied as he remembered the long practice sessions in all sorts of weather he has had over the past years at Hogwarts. Admittedly he would be rusty since he had not really done any proper Quidditch stuff in a long while. It would take him a spell to get back on the broom: so to speak.  
Being somewhat curious about Quidditch fame and fortune Harry asked, “Why you want me?”  
Krum’s face got brighter. He could see he was getting through to Harry. “You are Harry Potter the famous Harry Potter. And at the moment, the single Harry Potter. The ring thing is not important. We can cover up. Simple propaganda will work. People will come to see you. But you need to start practice. Practice all the time with a broom…”  
“I don’t have a broom.”  
“You do.” With that Krum turned to the open door, put a couple of fingers to his lips and let out a long shrill of a whistle. Exactly two seconds later a broom came screeching through the door right onto Krum’s outstretched hand. “See, new broom. Of course it is my own design. Based on the old Firebolt Supreme. This is vastly better, I made it so. So I call it Firebolt Supreme VK-X. The VK are my initials and the ‘X’ because I like it. See? Simple. Now you try.” Krum said handing the new broom to Harry.  
The very second Harry touched the broom he knew it was good, as in really good. The feel of the wood. The smooth grain, tight and compact. The curve of the handle. The selection of the twigs, their uniformity all exuded speed and agility. Then there was the finish. The varnish was silky smooth to the touch. As Harry inspected the varnish he saw it was applied by a craftsman of unusual skill. Harry’s summation of the broom was a huge, “Wow!”  
“Yes, I think so I have made it good. But they are top secret as this will help us win next season.”  
Getting somewhat interested Harry asked, “Who else are on the team.”  
“That I can not say. Still in deep discussion.”  
“Am I the first?”  
“No, the last. If not you than I can do the Seeker. Not the same as you are better known here than I.”  
“Everyone knows you.”  
“Not as many as know you. You are the big star. That is why we are to offer you a good salary. With all the usual previsions, exclusions, annotations, clauses and sub-clauses. All has to be signed first. And for you to remain single for at least the first three seasons. Just to bring in the families with single girls. They spend the most at games.”  
“Do they?”  
“Oh yes. Girls spend out boys two to one, every time.”  
“I thought it was a boy’s game.”  
“It is. Boys go and support. Girls buy stuff. That is the way it is today. So to make money, we look for girls to come.”  
Harry walked to the chair behind the desk and sat down. He was in deep thought. The broom followed and waited right behind Harry within easy reach of Harry’s right hand.  
As a professor he would earn a fair salary. More for prestige than financial gain. On the other hand, to be a fully fledged Quidditch player in a top team would mean money: lots of money. Money enough to buy a nice house for Ginny and him. Big enough to cover any children that would come along. Money enough to go on long summer holidays to Egypt, India, Ceylon and even New Zealand.  
Seeing the right look on Harry’s face Krum pressed on with, “You keep Miss. Weasley. I move on. Nice girl from The Tibetan Lama Conservatory of Witchcraft I met. Lexis Liu her name from Brooklyn. Good wizard family that goes back many generations to Salem. Good strong blood on her father’s side. Mother’s side is not so good. She and I been going together for three weeks. See more of her when school is out and we are in training. She has a training program we follow.” Then he asked the key question, “Are you ready to be a world class Quidditch player on my team?”  
Harry was just about to jump up and say, ‘yes!’ when he noticed the door was gone. Harry did get up with something else beside Quidditch occupying his mind. Harry turned to Krum and asked, “When you came in just now, did you see a door right about here?” Harry indicated the location with his foot.  
Krum had a somewhat bemused look on his face when he said, “What door?”  
It was just as Harry thought. The door was there for him. Once Krum entered the door vanished. What the door meant was lost to the present and Viktor Krum standing there waiting for an answer. Only this time there was no Hermione, no Ron, and now no Ginny. Things were getting pretty thin on the ground. Then he remembered the others. Feeling they are outside the door, listening to everything going on inside, Harry said in a loud voice, “You lot, come on in. It’s safe.”  
It took a few seconds but the door did open and the others filed in, skirted Krum and grouped about Harry.  
“Okay, what should I do? Stay here and be a professor or go with Krum and play Quidditch?”  
No one said a word. No one ever had to face such a choice. It was Seamus Finnigan that finally broke the silence with, “Harry, are you stupid or what? Quidditch it has to be. You are good and Krum here will make you a world class player. You have to go and tell everyone where you started. Harry, this is a one in a million chance and things don’t get better than going with Krum.” There was a general nodding of heads in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Seamus who was considered a connoisseur of Quidditch.  
Lee Jordan chimed in with, “If you play Quidditch you better remember us with a ticket or two, or three or even four. Call it payback for saving your bacon during the battle.”  
“Hay, you never saved his bacon, he saved yours!” retorted Terry Boot to much laughter.  
“Not me,” Neville said. “Quidditch is fun and all that. I’d rather be a teacher here at Hogwarts. Mean, playing Quidditch is all flash. Fame is all exaggerated. Money is overrated. Who really cares who won the last world cup…”  
Krum cut in quickly with, “You speak as a traitor. Someone who knows not the game.” To add emphasis Krum pounded his palm with his other hand when he said, “Quidditch is the king of all games.”  
Michael Corner quickly added, “I’m with Krum. You don’t turn down chances like this. You get to travel all over the place and do lots of things. Dang, go for it Harry!”  
Then Lee Jordan said, “Harry, if you aren’t up for it, I’d be happy to step in.” Someone behind Lee cuffed his left ear. “Owe! Who did that?”  
Someone said, “Be serious Lee.”  
“You know,” Anthony Goldstein commented, “There is only three Jewish Quidditch players in Britain and Ireland. A bit thin on the ground. Some say it’s because all the games are on Saturday and that’s a special day for us Jews. If we could move the games to Sunday, I’d think you would get more Jewish players and more people at the games.”  
“Sorry Goldstein, that’s not going to happen any time soon. Britain and Ireland are firmly in the Christian camp and we moved the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday long ago.”  
“Well, if you moved it forward, why can’t you move it back?”  
“That’s the way Christians did it a long time ago to separate themselves from the Jews of the day.”  
“Hay guy’s, I’m looking for help on jobs, not whether the Sabbath day should be on Saturday or Sunday. We can talk about that later. Right now it’s Krum and Quidditch or Hogwarts and a Professorship.”  
“Krum every time.” Was Ernie Macmillan’s short reply.  
“Spoken like a pure blood.” Someone said.  
“ Been playing and following the game for ever even though I’m only a half blood.” Michael Corner added. “Just part of being a wizard. You go to every home game come rain or shine.”  
“Great, brilliant, fantastic… that’s just about everyone for Quidditch and only one holdout for being a professor.”  
“So you come?” Krum asked  
The door to Professor Snape’s office did not open quite as fast as when Krum bashed on it. But it did open and in walked Professor McGonagall.  
“Gentlemen,” Professor McGonagall started with. “I see that the walls of Hogwarts are being graced by one of the world’s eminent Quidditch players. Welcome Viktor Krum. It is indeed an honor to receive you. Just a pity you did not inform the proper authorities you were going to pay us a visit. If you had we could have provided a larger room and convivial snacks to munch on. Be that as it may, I hear you have a proposition to propose to Professor Potter here. May we all hear it in all its gory details?”  
“Professor McGonagall, it is indeed an honor to greet you today. I was not expecting to see you.”  
“As I gather. A quick dash visit? In and out before the ‘others’ knew you were at Hogwarts?”  
“Of course not. I have full intentions to make my presence known.”  
“And when would that be?”  
“As soon as I completed work here.”  
“As soon as you stole my new professor from Hogwarts?”  
“He has the right to choose. To stay as a professor or become a seeker with me.”  
“As you wave a fat cheque under his nose? Is that fair? To skew the pitch in your favor? Or is it better to stay here and help future generations of budding wizards reach their full potential?”  
“We talk, he chooses. Simple.”  
“Nothing is that simple Viktor, especially since your father has bought the Chudley Cannons, changed their colours from bright orange to the more sober purple with deep red trim and changed the logo too. Two crossed Durmstrang staffs and battlements. Droll Bulgarian design I assume. And a very Bulgarian saying of ‘Victory above all’ which I assume will be shortened to ‘Viktor above all.’ So where does the cannons bit come in? Went off prematurely, did they?”  
Krum was feeling the pressure and retorted with, “My father has assigned all responsibility to me with respect to the team. That means I am the one to choose the team: a team that wins and not be bottom.”  
“So where does Potter fit in? He’s good, yes, not up to professional standards, yet. Maybe on a season or two. So why him Viktor? Why Potter on your team?”  
“He is good. Good for the team.”  
“Oh come on Viktor. Stop beating about the bush. All you want Potter for is to bring in the fans. Doesn’t matter if he is good, bad, or falls off his broom, Potter is bankable. Bankable as in lining your pocket with easy cash. Isn’t that why you are not willing to play? If you got involved in the British and Irish league it might ruin your chances to play for Bulgaria in future World Cup games?”  
“I have retired. Everyone knows that.”  
“Everyone but you. So why are you practicing if you are retired?”  
Seeing Professor McGonagall was extremely well informed Krum decided to end the discussion and depart. He did it by saying, “I must go. Thank you for your kind hospitality. I do enjoy visiting Hogwarts. And for you Professor Potter, I await your reply.” With that, followed by a deep bow to Professor McGonagall Viktor Krum swept out of the room, down the stairs and out the doors of Hogwarts.  
“Well Professor Potter, it seems you are in demand. Or in the current vernacular, you are a hot item.”  
“Professor, I didn’t ask him to come here. I wasn’t expecting it. It’s a big surprise to me.”  
Trying to calm Harry down, Professor McGonagall started in a very conciliatory tone, “Professor Potter, I trust in your integrity. I know you would have come immediately to my office to discuss this new development.”  
Harry was struck by her faith in him while he was struck by the number of galleons rolling by. He mumbled, “Of course, professor. He was only here a few minutes before you came in. I do appreciate your intervention.” The words sounded good but there was no surety behind them.  
That was then Professor McGonagall noticed the broom following Harry. “And, I suppose, Krum left you something to think about. A nice new broom I see.”  
Harry went bright red as he reached for the broom so he could hand it to Professor McGonagall. As he did so he noticed Professor Snape’s wand on the desk. He quickly picked it up and put it away.  
“This is an exceptional broom!” Professor McGonagall said, “Has all the latest mod’s and con’s I see.” As she swished it about in the air ` Professor McGonagall added, “Very light, responsive and turns very easily. A gift I suppose?  
“Ah, he left it here.”  
“For you to keep?”  
“Ah, I suppose so.”  
“No pressure Professor Potter… no pressure at all. I will assume you will make the right choice. Please remember I am counting on you to make the right one so Hogwarts can move forward knowing we have the best teachers and the most accomplished staff for the betterment of the up and coming wizarding generations. Oh yes. We have received transfer applications from at least twenty students since they know you will be here next term. As I said, no pressure… none at all.”  
With that Professor McGonagall left the room full of stunned boys.  
“Bloody hell,” Seamus Finnigan said as he exhaled loudly. “No pressure… did you hear that? No pressure! What do you think that was all about? No pressure… my foot! I’d hate to see her get real and put pressure on someone, don’t you?” No one picked up on what Seamus said. Everyone was thinking, not about themselves but about Harry. The question being, what will Harry do?  
Harry flopped into the chair and plopped his feet up on the desk. His eyes focused on nothing. Finally he said, “Okay, no problem. I can do this.”  
“That’s the spirit Harry,” Lee Jordan said  
“Anything we can do to help Harry,” Dean Thomas added.  
“I think it’s time to give Harry some space,” Anthony Goldstein said. With that he moved toward the door and left it open once he left. One by one the others left until there was only Harry staring up at the ceiling and Neville studying the ground between his feet. Nothing was said for an awful long time. Sometimes silence is best as it gives space to mull over what had happened.  
Finally the emptiness was cast aside when Neville said, “Harry, you using your own wand?”  
Slowly Harry responded with a casual, “Yeh.”  
Just as slowly Neville came back with, “Hummm. Thought so.” Then silence fell on the two again.  
Finally curiosity got the better of Harry so he asked, “Why?”  
Still in no rush Neville thought before replied with, “You know Snape and me didn’t get on too well. He didn’t think I belonged in Hogwarts. Picked on me as often as he could. Spent a lot of time here in this office in detention. He had a sick streak longer and thicker than most could imagine.” Neville paused as he moved to a particular corner of the office. “Like telling me I couldn’t find my way out of this corner. So he had me face the corner for hours and say, ‘I am a failure’ over and over again. I never turned around. I tried it once and Snape was waiting for me. He has eyes everywhere. That was when he pulled out his wand and did a few spells. See here,” Neville held up his arm so Harry could clearly see the scars, “Snape made sure you lot couldn’t see my scars.”  
Harry jumped up, looking hard, and said, “You mean Snape did that to you?”  
Neville laughed hard, “And that was just in out first year. Second year was just as bad. That’s why I was so glad you stood up to the lot of them. You got knocked down a few times but you always came back. That made life bearable. When Snape took over as the headmaster that was it. That’s when I said to myself, ‘Even without Harry, we have to stand up and be counted.’ With Luna and Ginny we were good, dammed good.” Neville paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, then continued with, “During those dark days I got to know Snape’s wand. How it looks, how he held it, what it is capable of doing, and what it sounds like when Snape dropped it onto his desk.” Neville let that sink in then asked his salient question, “You still using Draco Malfoy’’s wand?”  
“Still got it.” Was Harry’s reply.  
“Didn’t ask if you still got it. I asked, if you are using Draco’s wand?”  
“Sure, and yes I am.”  
Neville studied Harry trying to decide if Harry was telling the truth or not. Finally Neville asked, “Any other wands?”  
Without blinking an eye Harry reached into his moleskin pouch and pulled out the three wands Ollivander had given him. “Only these three.”  
Neville was not expecting such a bold move and so many wands. “Wow Harry. So the rumors are true. You are carrying more than one wand.”  
“Rumors are only that. Please don’t add to them. Can I trust you with that?”  
“Ah, sure Harry, Neville said in amazement, “No one would believe me anyway. Three really? Is that in addition to Draco’s?”  
“In addition.”  
“Really! No one would believe any wizard is carrying four wands. Never been done before.”  
“Problem is grabbing the right one.” Harry added as he saw Neville losing his train of thought on Snape’s wand.  
“Where do you come up with these ideas. I mean, four… no one thinks like that. Bad enough getting one to work properly, remembering all the spells, hexes, jinks, zeffs and on and on… And you want to do all that with four?” Neville watched carefully as Harry replaced the wands back into his moleskin pouch. Harry didn’t realize they would come in so handy so quickly.  
To keep changing the subject Harry jumped up out of the chair, grabbed the letter he wrote and said, “Come on, lets get out of here and see what the others are doing. Must be time for a snack or a nibble on something. If not here Hogsmeade is close by.” With that Harry put his arm round Neville’s shoulders as they walked out of Snape’s office letting the door close itself.  
After a scavenger hunt everyone decided to eat down at the Hogs Head. Harry was a bit slow leaving Hogwarts as he had an owl to send. It was his Parlay of Harveture to Mr. Weasley.  
Harry was last in the pub. The others were upstairs making too much noise. ‘A rowdy bunch,’ thought Harry as he joined in the noise. Aberforth was busy down at the bar serving the bulk of his customers so he asked Madam Rosmerta the landlady of The Three Broomsticks pub to help out. Since she was a bit slow she was happy to come over and help. Her specialty was good pub grub ranging from cheese and ham sandwiches to steak and kidney pie. Not quite in the same imaginative league as Aberforth, but good enough for The three Broomsticks.  
After the main course Rosmerta said, “Hurry up boys, I have a special treat for you. Just got a special order in of Blue Bell ice cream. Should go a treat with your apple crumble.”  
All the boys mumbled their appreciation when dinner was done. It was good, very good, and were slow to leave. Once the sun was setting they boys meandered back to Hogwarts for a quiet evening in the common room.  
As they approached Hogwarts standing at the door was a scrawny looking owl. It was rather battered and seemed to have a bit of a limp. Almost like the scars from the latest battle. As Harry approached the dusty owl straightened up and held up a leg so Harry could take the scroll. Feeling pity on the owl he dropped a galleon in and told him to go to the Owlery and take a rest. Everyone wanted to know what is in the scroll while no one was willing to ask Harry to open it.  
As the owl too off to the Owlery Harry stood up, scroll in hand, and looked at it. Finally Harry broke the bright red seal and unrolled the scroll. Harry read it quickly as it wasn’t long.

Mr. Potter:

I accept your Parlay of Harveture with respects to my daughter Ginevra Weasley.

Arthur Weasley

“That’s short,” Neville said.  
“Yeh, real sort.”  
“That’s almost rude not putting ‘yours truly’ or something like that.”  
“Yea, bummer that.”  
“Think I’d better send him the dates now.” Harry said with a glazed look on his face as his heart thumped away at a fast pace. “Now things are moving forward.” With that Harry slowly went down to Snape’s office to compose the formal date letter. Sitting at the desk Harry studied the blank parchment in some detail before finding the quill and dipping it in the ink.

Dear Sir:

Thank you for accepting the Parlay of Harveture. I would like to propose the following dates for our time together. They are May 25, or June 1 or June 15.  
From our meeting I feel sure you will see that I am sincere and worthy of your daughter’s hand in marriage.

Yours

Harry Potter.

Harry headed to bead early that evening. He was lost between the brevity of the reply and his love for Ginny. As he made his way from Snape’s office to the tower he was thinking that this was a whole lot worse than Riddle. With Tom it was simple life of death: his life and his death. Now it was being with Ginny for ever or never being with Ginny for ever. A whole lot different and Harry felt it in his heart and soul. Slowly Harry was beginning to understand what a heavy heart felt like and it didn’t feel good. Harry trudged up the stairs, through the common room and to his dormitory. There he kicked open his trunk and pulled out an old and battered moleskin notebook. It was one he kept way back at his first year at Hogwarts. He thumbed through to a well visited page and read yet again about his first meeting with Ginny.

The Old Boot actually took me to King’s Cross station, dropped me off and left. Just like he said there is a platform 9 and a platform 10. There is no 9 ¾. Scared I felt. Never been alone in a train station before. Loads of people and no where to go. That’s when the Weasley’s showed up. Mrs. Weasley directing traffic as usual. Four boys and one girl. It’s Percy, George, Fred, Ron and Ginny. I watched the first three boys go through the barrier. Looked weird. There and not there. Didn’t know how it worked so I asked Mrs. Weasley what to do and she helped me do it properly. Glad the Weasley’s were there to help. Once through had a chance to thank Mrs. Weasley. Got on the train and then we were off.

Harry didn’t bother with the rest of his journal as that was the starting point. Carefully he closed that book and replaced it. So much has happened since then. So much has changed since then. So much growing up since then. So worth it to be with Ginny since then. With that Harry got ready for bed determined to face the future, no matter what it threw at him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Wednesday May 20, 1998 - Morning**

 

Quidditch is delightful indeed,  
when it has a good referee.

Attributed to William Fitzstephen

 

The day started like any spring day in Scotland with the promise of rain. Harry was up early as he wanted some time out on the Quidditch pitch to see how good the broom Krum gave him was. Since he was a graduate he did not use his Gryffindor team colours, he was dressed in his practice kit.  
Harry had his new broom in one hand and a practice Quidditch crate in the other. He walked to the center of the pitch and dropped the crate in the center of the circle. Since he was playing alone he dialed in one, no, and a full sized pitch dimensions for the last four dials. With that he opened the crate and only the snitch zoomed out and was immediately lost from site. Harry counted to ten and then took off.  
Once Harry left the ground on the Firebolt Supreme VK-X he knew it was something special. It responded more to Harry’s thoughts than his actions. Like it could understand what Harry was planning to do and did it.  
The acceleration was blinding fast and almost took Harry’s glass off his face, so he slowed up a bit. Even so he was going faster than he ever been before. He zoomed over to the three rings and started to zoom in and out of them just for the shear pleasure of it all.  
As Harry zoomed about he had not a care in the world. All that mattered was the game, the game of Quidditch. Then Harry decided to go high, to see what sort of ceiling the Firebolt Supreme VK-X had. That’s when Harry put the broom in to a vertical climb: and off it went. The broom had the power and acceleration to go vertical for what felt like an awful long time. That is when his fingers started to feel frozen. The minute he realized his hands were cold, the broom turned on hand heaters. Harry smiled and carried on going up. He was not sure how high up he was but the curvature of the earth was clearly visible.  
Harry pulled the broom to a halt and stopped to take in the view. It was absolutely magnificent. Which ever way he turned the view was brilliant. He looked this way and that and enjoyed it all. Then he remembered Ginny and felt a twinge of sadness and loneliness. He missed Ginny.  
That was when the snitch went flying by going higher. Harry took off hard after the snitch. The race was on. Harry was noticing that flying in the thinner air made things a little bit different. In the thinner air the broom took a little longer to turn, cut, bob and weave. That is why as he tracked the snitch the snitch had the advantage of bobbing and weaving as it had wings to make all these moves and moves it did make. As Harry tried to follow the snitch, the snitch consistently out maneuvered Harry. So Harry made some compensation to his actions, and as he did so, so did the snitch to keep its advantage. That was until the snitch flipped over end went into vertical dive for the ground far, far below. It was a flat out race. The snitch did not do anything except keep going faster and faster downward. Harry followed the snitch downward but was not gaining on the squirrelly snitch. So he pressed harder on the broom and it picked up the pace and that is when Harry felt his glasses starting to slip from his face. As he reached up to steady his glasses the snitch made its move going hard left. Since Harry had only one hand on the broom at that exact moment, he could not execute the tight turn and lost the snitch in that split second.  
“Blast,” Harry said out loud as he scanned the area for the snitch. The sky was empty as far as he could see. Since the snitch was gone, Harry dawdled as he played about on the broom. He wanted to test it out by doing little things. Like testing out its responses. By doing so he was beginning to get the feel of the broom. And he liked what he felt; just not too sure about the broom acting before he acted. So Harry kept moving about to the point of trying a few loops going up and then a few vertical downward moves. As he got playing about he forgot about the snitch. That is until it went zooming straight at him. Harry was totally elsewhere when he saw the snitch streaking at him, head on. The surprise was total and Harry ducked to get out of the snitch’s way. He ducked and the snitch went zooming down his back and out of sight. Even though Harry was fast, as he flicked the broom about, he was not fast enough. He looked and the snitch was gone. Rather than mess about Harry sighed and took the defensive position of going higher to gain the high ground. The problem being, how high was the high ground? Could the snitch go higher than Harry on his new broom?  
Once high enough to be comfortable he was high enough, Harry started performing figure of eights in a very slow descent. The goal was to block the high ground from the snitch. Classical Quidditch defense. The descent was slow and purposeful. Harry’s eyes were swiveling in all directions looking hard for the snitch: or anything resembling a snitch. He looked and looked until his eyes hurt from looking hard through the thin air. That was until a golden streak went zooming passed in a downward direction. Harry was not expecting anything from that direction and was a split second late in reacting to it. This time Harry knew he was going in the right direction even though he could not see the snitch.  
Sadly Harry was wrong. Somehow the snitch had double backed on Harry and came at him carving an arc coming in at the right and leaving from the left. Since Harry was going down there was no time to react. In fact Harry was concentrating so hard that the appearance of the snitch from the side threw Harry totally off what he was doing. In fact Harry almost went into a tumble that could have been disastrous. Again Harry lost the snitch.  
Now Harry was getting frustrated. Being his second foray back into playing Quidditch. The first being with Ginny that ended in disaster, and now this. It was if the gods of Quidditch were conspiring against Harry.  
That was when Harry stopped and thought. It was time to think about what was going on as this was turning into a problem. With one snitch, one player on one pitch things should not be this bad. Laid out like that Harry should have a fighting chance to get the snitch. In both cases all he had was a dog’s chance. So why did he only get a dog’s chance rather than a fighting chance. There had to be something in this… but what? Harry sat there and thought of the various permutations to his predicament. Nothing made sense. The more he thought the more ridiculous the thoughts become. Rather than give in, Harry changed tack. This time he went down, all the way down and stood by the crate. Harry stood there in the middle of the pitch thinking, and thinking hard. Between the two games there was nothing in common. Nothing except a game crate.  
Harry bent down to have a closer look at the crate. He was not familiar with Quidditch crates, and definitely not familiar with the difference between a game and a practice crate. That was when he pressed the game over button and watched the snitch come back to the crate and settle into its spot. That is when Harry pulled the snitch out and closely inspected it. What he was looking for he was not sure. Just some silly notion that there might be a real difference between a game and practice snitch. As he rolled it about and looked at its wings, Harry could not see anything fundamentally different between this practice snitch in his hand and a game snitch that had never been touched.  
Then the thought struck him, is there a difference between a game snitch that has never been touched and a game snitch that has been touched? Has a practice snitch learned things a game snitch hasn’t? Can a practice snitch actually learn? And so on until Harry was not thinking straight. At least it was something to work on when he was at Diagon Alley. There he could ask his silly questions at Quality Quidditch Supplies as they deal only with Quidditch things.  
Before doing anything else Harry removed his glasses and put string from each arm so he could secure his glasses for fast flight: and he knew it would be fast!  
Harry replaced the snitch, closed the crate, then reset the dials and kicked open the lid. This time he did not give the snitch any head start. The minute the snitch took off Harry was right on its tail. The snitch did not go up but zoomed from the center of the pitch straight at the post holding up the center ring. The snitch was six inches off the ground with Harry following at nine inches off the ground. The speed was blinding fast. With his glasses secured he was asking the broom to go faster and faster. With grim determination, Harry was not going to lose this snitch this time.  
The snitch won the foot race to the base of the post and immediately started to go up the pole in a spiral motion. Harry matched move for move and was glad to get to the top as he was starting to feel a bit queasy in the stomach. Once the snitch reached the top of the pole it started going round the ring on the inside. Harry followed still matching move for move. All this rolling about was not doing Harry’s stomach any favors. He was struggling to stay close to the snitch without being sick all over the place. As Wood would say, ‘it’s mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.’ And, ‘Better to puke up and win than puke up and lose.’ Wood was full of such sayings.  
Then the snitch went from the center ring to the other rings flying between all three rings doing inner circles as fast as it could. The tightness of the circles was telling on Harry as he fought to stay focused on the snitch. He was fighting hard with all he had. He had no plans of losing sight of the snitch this time.  
The snitch had a huge advantage doing tight circles as it was small, light and agile: everything Harry was not. Simply put, the snitch was playing to its advantages.  
Then the snitch decided to loop about the loops while looping each ring in a random pattern. Now Harry was struggling to stay on his broom and, more importantly, not fall off from being dizzy. And dizzy he was getting. The looping meant Harry had to reduce speed to be able to follow the snitch in such tight circles about the three rings. Without speed his broom’s advantage was negated. That was until Harry had a brainwave. Holding on tightly with his right hand Harry fished about and pulled out his own wand and snapped it into the grip that is on all good brooms. A move totally illegal in game Quidditch, not so in practice Quidditch. Once in place Harry, the wand and the broom began to act as one. Now Harry was concentrating on out guessing the snitches next move. Since he did not have any speed or maneuverability advantage, he had to play to his strength and that was the ability to guess the next move.  
Once comfortable, Harry tried a few second guessing moves. As he did so the snitch reacted but never left the three rings. The snitch knew where its strength and advantage lay and was waiting for Harry to capitulate. Sensing something different the snitch picked up the pace. It could do that because of its maneuverability. Now Harry was really feeling sick in his stomach. They had been flying about the rings doing circles within circles for about five or ten minutes, actually Harry had lost all sense of time.  
At this new pace Harry was falling behind. Simply put, the snitch was out maneuvering Harry. And that is when Harry changed the game. When the snitch went from the middle ring to the left one it went clockwise around the circle and clockwise about the circle. Harry followed hard but went anticlockwise. The snitch missed his move. Harry stuck out his hand and caught the snitch. The impact of the snitch was a combination of their speeds and it hurt and hurt bad. As Harry slowed up he could feel the snitch still going, or trying to go, in circles in his hand. That’s when Harry thought the snitch was just as dizzy as he was.  
Harry slowly descended to the ground, got off his broom, pressed the game end button and let the still moving snitch find its way home. Once done Harry closed and locked the lid. That’s when Harry sat on the crate thinking about the game. He felt good about it. It was fun, challenging and different from game Quidditch. And he was impressed how the broom acted and reacted. He popped off his wand and put it away. Even though he caught the snitch he didn’t see an advantage of adding his wand into the mix.  
Harry stood up, one hand had the broom and the other had the crate and started to walk off the pitch. As he started to walk off the pitch one person started a slow hand clap. Harry instantly recognized Professor McGonagall. As Harry got closer she added, “Congratulations Professor Potter. I’m glad you have time to enjoy yourself while others have to get ready for the new school year.” She rolled into, “I was wondering if you have made up your mind as to the imminent future? Are you staying at Hogwarts to follow other noble people in the pursuit of raising future wizards and witches to fulfill their potential or only play Quidditch?”  
Harry loved the way Professor McGonagall put things. Rather than try and match her verbal gymnastics Harry said, “Still working on it. But at the moment I’m getting ready for Harveture.”  
“Really! Miss. Weasley I assume. A good choice.” Then she added, “If all goes according to plan are you thinking of marriage before or after her graduation?”  
“Ahh…” was accompanied by a blank look.  
“Obviously not thought that far, I see. If I may be so bold, I would recommend waiting until after graduation. Marriage has never been conducive to N.E.W.T’s. Since you have passed through the ring ceremony I would think your surety of each other would stand you in good stead for the upcoming school year and the pressures Miss Weasley would pass through that yourself and Mr. Ron Weasley did not.”  
That slight barb struck home. Harry knew that’s why Herminie wanted to take her N.E.W.T’s rather than listen to snide remarks the rest of her life.  
Getting back to the present, Harry parried with, “N.E.W.T’s or Riddle. Which would you prefer?”  
“Touché Professor Potter, Touché.” Professor McGonagall waited a minute before adding, “Please let me know at your earliest convenience of your acceptance. As you know obtaining good teachers at this late day is challenging indeed. I do not wish a late arrival on the unsuspecting students whom are looking forward to Professor Potter as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”  
“I’ll let you know the minute I have made up my mind.” Then he added, “Exactly how many Hogwarts students have been married?”  
“None of late”  
“Then who was the last one?”  
“I was, Professor Potter, I was.” With that Professor McGonagall left the Quidditch pitch heading back to the school leaving Harry thinking about Professor McGonagall.  
Harry was about half way out of the Quidditch field when the owl came into view. It was a pipsqueak of an owl. Then again the message it was carrying was very short. Seeing the owl coming his way Harry put out his hand so the owl could perch there. The small owl saw the extended arm and made a neat landing. With some trepidation Harry took the parchment and unrolled it. The letter was expected.

_Mr. Potter:_

_Be at the Burrow at 8 o’clock in the morning on May 25, 1998 for our Parlay of Harveture._

_Arthur Weasley_

A cold chill went up and down Harry’s back. Things were slowly picking up the pace. That was only next Monday. Only a few days away. In a stupor of absentmindedness Harry scratched the owl’s head as he thought of the impending doom. The owl loved the attention as it is not often given to a lowly mail carrier.  
The others were at the breakfast table eating leftovers when a dejected Harry walked in. He was left to scrounge like any other person. Fame and fortune had not gone to his head as he poked about to see what was left and still edible.  
“What’s the plan Harry?” Asked Neville in a cheerful tone.” You want to do some Harveture practice?”  
Harry cocked his head to one side in thought. “What do you have in mind? The rack or hot pokers to my toes?”  
“Nothing that good, how about family questions?”  
“Nah, pass.”  
“Okay, what about gardening stuff? The Weasley’s have a good garden?”  
“Nope.”  
“Then what about Ministry of Magic protocol?”  
“What? What’s that?”  
“Stuff that Mr. Weasley might ask.”  
“why?”  
“Don’t know… just in case really.”  
“Thanks for all your help. Just don’t know what Mr. Weasley might ask.”  
“That’s the point,” Lee Jordan added, “If we don’t practice then you won’t be ready. We have time right now to practice this and that.”  
“Like what?”  
“Well, we could bone up on your family;” Seamus added, “Or the Weasley family; family life. And we’ve had lots of practice of family life as we all come from families. We could have a quick look at camping as the Weasley’s do go camping a lot in the summer. And local history of the Burrow.”  
“Great… brilliant… fantastic. You think he will go that way?”  
“Don’t know. Can’t sit here doing nothing, can we?”  
“You getting this from those books?”  
“Yep, they were good reading.”  
“And what are you skipping?”  
“Quidditch stuff. You should be good there. And spells. Don’t think you have problems there. That leaves the odd stuff like cooking. You ever done any cooking?” Rolling right along with, “home economics; broom maintenance and stuff like that.”  
“You kidding me?” Harry asked flummoxed by the list and the fact that all this could be thrown at him by Mr. Weasley.  
“And then there is the really odd ones like communications between magical groups, swimming with the Merpeople, goblin games, Troll lagarding, and giant thumb wrestling. Drop that lot and worry about real ones, the possible ones.”  
“Who says they are possible?”  
“We do.”  
“Based on what?”  
“Us lot sitting about chatting what we think could happen.”  
“The brain trust?”  
“Yep, that’s us.”  
About that time Miss Evangelista poked her head around the open door, book in hand, and said, “This might be of use.” She put the thin book on the side table and left.  
Neville walked over, picked up the book, and read the title, “ _Harveture for the Adventurous_. That sounds just what you need Harry.”  
“Let me have a look,” Seamus said. He looked at the title page. “Thought so, some relative on me ma’s side wrote it about a hundred years ago. Forgot about it. Me Ma said we had a famous writer in the family. All the others said it’s a load of rubbish.” Thumbing through the book Seamus added, “Maybe there’s something here worth bothering about.”  
Harry was a bit dubious when he said, “Hundred years ago. Haven’t things changed a bit?”  
“Not really. Boys are still boys and girls are still girls. Maybe some fluff about the edges, but the regular stuff hasn’t changed.”  
Reluctantly Harry agreed to a general chat session with the others. He didn’t see how it could help or hinder, so why not. And that is what they did. Seamus skipped over the book’s introduction and went to page five where the questions were. He started with, “Okay, the first question is, provide a history of you and your family”.  
Harry thought for a moment then, in a subdued tone said, “Don’t really know that much about my family. Everyone knows we lived in Godric’s Hollow and my parents were killed by Tom when I was a bit passed one year old…”  
“Harry,” cut in Seamus, “Stop waffling and give us the facts.”  
“Okay:” Harry said coldly and then regrouped with, “I was at born at Godric’s Hollow on July 31, 1980. I lived there with my parents, James and Lily, until Tom Riddle attacked my family and killed both my parents on October 31, 1981. I was placed with my Aunt Petunia and her husband Arthur and grew up with their son, Dudley. Dudley is a couple of weeks older than me and much bigger than me.”  
“Good, much better. Could you add something sadder? Need to get Mr. Weasley feeling sad for you. Any ideas?”  
“Hang on a moment,” a flummoxed Harry said, “This isn’t theatre stuff here. It’s me on the line.”  
“Yeh, fine… just that the book says you should make things look sad to create feelings of empathy in the father of the girl. Empathy is one of the top ten winning ways. Think you can do that?”  
Harry was not amused about this line of coaching, but he was willing to give it a try. “Okay, alright… How about this.  
“It was a dark and stormy night in Godric’s Hollow. The rain was hammering down on the small house… No tent. Let me start again. July 31, 1980 was a dark and stormy day. The rain was hammering down on the small tent pitched in the middle of a muddy field surrounded by wild and savage creatures of the underworld. My father had been busy fending off fire breathing dragons all day and killed at least fifty. Their bodies acting as a shield against further attacks. That night I was born while an Abba record was playing, Baby in the background. Later mother would carry me as she danced to SOS. I miss those days so much.”  
“Now we are getting somewhere.” Seamus said with glee. “Much better. Now, if you could shed a tear at the right moment, I think that would crack any flint hearted man.”  
“Mr. Weasley isn’t flint hearted. He is a softie under that gruff front he puts on.”  
“Front or not, do you want to win Ginny or not? That’s all you have to worry about. And to do that you have to face Mr. Weasley on Monday as in a few days Monday.”  
“Okay, I get it. Lay it on thick and the thicker the better.”  
“That’s what the book says to do.”  
Harry muttered to himself, “Now I know why Dad married a muggle. Simpler.”  
“Come on Harry; don’t have all day to get you ready. You need to nail the easy questions and your family should be easy: their your family.”  
That is when the same ginormous owl came sailing in and did a tight loop and landed right in front of Harry. The owl lifted up its leg and Harry removed the parchment. As a reward Harry dropped a few coins in the owls pouch and then read the neatly printed message from Gossiter.

_Dear Sir_ :

_Things are progressing very well. Miss Granger is back on her feet and feeling very much as you know her to be. Miss Granger has rewrote the plan and we hope it will go well tomorrow. Fingers crossed. Mr. Weasley is still in the dog house. He would like to leave and move back in to the apartment. Miss Granger is against that. Will keep you informed what happens tomorrow._

_Yours,_

_Gossiter_

Harry read the note through a couple of times and then shared it with the others. There was a general sense of well being and hope that Herminie could pull it off.  
That’s when Harry picked up his family thread and continued with, “We were so poor that the midwife was called at the very last minute, just to save money. My parents were very active in working against Voldemort and his cohorts. They battled him in the street, in the fields, in the towns and in at the Ministry. That is why Voldemort hated my parents so much. And that is why he wanted to kill them.  
“The only photo I have of me and my parents is my first birthday when I was given a baby broom to scoot about the house on. It was my first and last photo of all three of us. Only a few weeks later, on October 31, 1981, on a viciously stormy and nasty night Voldemort made his move. He crept down the road undetected. Crept up to the front door then blasted the door open surprising both of my parents. Using non-verbal dark art commands he overpowered and mercilessly killed my father and then turned his unending wrath on my mother who was defending me with his body.  
“Showing no mercy, no remorse, no feelings of any kind, Voldemort blasted my mother into the next world. With both parents dead he approached my crib and coldly pointed his wand at me and used an Avada Kedavra curse on me. It didn’t work. It rebounded on Voldemort and that is why he disappeared for so long. The same spell gave me my trademark scar on my forehead. A mark I must carry for the rest of my life. It constantly reminds me of my loss and my survival. Both terrible burdens to carry alone.  
“I was rescued form the destroyed house by Professor Hagrid, trusted right hand man of Professor Dumbledore. To protect me I was placed with my nearest living relative Aunt Petunia and her kind and ever so loving family. There I was nurtured until age eleven when I was admitted to Hogwarts.” And then Harry stopped.  
“Man, no way… really? That’s pretty sad.” Terry Boot said.  
“Fakery to the max,” Neville said in a bold tone.  
“Course it’s not true,” Harry lied as he shifted about in the chair to cover his bubbling emotions, “But that’s what you want. Right?”  
“You had me going,” Seamus said. “That’s really good. Really good stuff there.”  
“Yeh, I’ll remember that when I try out for next years Hogwarts panto.” Harry replied.  
“We don’t have a panto at Hogwarts.” Piped in Dean Thomas.  
“Of course not, twit.” Harry said as he tossed a cushion at Dean. It missed.  
“What’s a panto?” asked Ernie Macmillan. The surprise question hung there for a moment before it received a reply.  
“You’re too pure blood to get into that stuff.” Said Seamus. “It’s only now that I’m older that I really understand all the other stuff I was too young to understand. And why there is always a girl dressed up as a boy or a boy dressed up as a girl and everyone runs about in tights.”  
“Tights?” Harry asked  
“Haven’t you ever noticed?” Seamus said, “Always green tights. Why green I asked me Ma one day and all I got was a pair of boxed ears. Never asked that again. I mean, one boxed ear is bad enough, getting two means I crossed the line.”  
“What line?”  
“Don’t know. Like I said, never asked that again.”  
“I know why they are green,” chipped in Michael Corner.  
“Okay bright spark, why are they green?”  
To blend in with the green background. Always green background at the panto.” To that reply Michael got a hail of stuff thrown at him. He easily avoided it all.  
“Okay you lot, lets get back with it,” Seamus said in a loud voice to cut through the side chats. “Like I said, that’s a good reply Harry. Remember that one: should work. All agree?” Seamus looked about and everyone was giving nods of agreement. “Okay, moving right along. Is there anything you want to add about the Dursley’s since they raised you? Like… anything positive?”  
“No.” was Harry’s short reply. Everyone remembered the many harrowing stories Harry told about life before Hogwarts and every summer with the Dursley’s. However, the question had to be asked so Harry was ready for Mr. Weasley.  
“Right then. Moving right along. Next big one. Ginny and why do you want to marry her?”  
“You don’t hide your punches do you Seamus,” Lee Jordan said in a surprised voice. “Mean, that is the biggie, isn’t it?”  
Harry blew out through his mouth to get a bit relaxed and gather his thoughts. “It’s like this…” Then he paused, thought a good thought, smiled and carried on with, “Like I’ve known Ginny since getting on the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. So it seems like I’ve known her a long time.  
“Things changed in the second year. I was rescued from the Dursley’s and had time at the Burrow. That was when I got to know her a little bit better. And then I had to rescue her from Tom. I was lucky to be in time or she would be dead. All Tom was doing was using Ginny as bait. He didn’t care about anyone else except himself.  
“Then in the third year things started to change for me. Started right there, at Kings Cross. The first time we really looked at each other.  
In the fourth year I still didn’t have it together at the Yule Ball. An opportunity lost.  
“If you remember the fifth year we had Umbridge at Hogwarts. It was just after Ginny’s father was attacked that my feelings for Ginny started to change. She was with me in the Department of Mysteries.  
“Things changed radically in the sixth year. It changed from me and her being friends to something more than friends. Something changed that those friend feelings got more important, more intense, more from the pit of my stomach. From that point on I started looking for Ginny, talking to Ginny and being with her as we talked Quidditch. Then Sectumsempra, then detention, then Ginny winning the game and then the kiss.” Harry let out a long sigh as he remembered with great fondness that kiss. “Actually it was a whole lot more than a kiss. More like the beginning of life. And then it had to end at Professor Dumbledore’s funeral. Ending what had just started was the hardest thing I’d ever done. To stop loving someone. To box it up and put it on a shelf like it never happened. To deny it to myself just in case Riddle saw through it all and got to Ginny. So I had to protect the one person I really love because of who she is. Falling in love was easy; hiding it was ever so hard. And during the following year, when things were going bad, where we couldn’t see the future, when everything was hedging against us, I couldn’t enjoy the thought that Ginny was safe and, hopefully, one day I’d be with her. I had to keep that box closed as I knew Riddle was gaining in power.  
“Then we were facing the battle and Ginny was too young to fight. Somehow she still got into the battle. But I was too busy elsewhere to know or worry about her. I had to face Riddle. Once done the boxed up emotions were allowed out and it’s been good ever since.”  
The boys sat about thinking about what Harry just said. Then Dean asked, “Could you make it sound a bit more melodramatic? Mean it’s good, not really great. This is her old man and he has to let go of her. If he thinks you are going to do a good job looking after her, then, maybe he will be nice to you.”  
“Like what,” a puzzled Harry asked.  
“Well, can you add in something about drooling over her? Or fights with her ex-boyfriends. Better still, how about lost love letters you poured your heart and soul into.”  
“Dean, you are so full of old tosh.” Michael Corner threw in. “That’s not Harry. Harry would never do things like that… Would you Harry?”  
Before Harry could reply Neville tripped down memory lane with, “Well I did date Ginny, once. She was very nice about it as no one had asked her to go to the Yule Ball. Remember that Harry?”  
A bright red Harry remembered it too well. He was young and awkward back then. That bit of regret still bothered him. Hopefully he is paying more attention to Ginny. As they say, if the husband and wife go the extra mile then they will meet somewhere in the middle.  
Seeing the question had got lost Seamus said, “I think you need to work on that one Harry. Mean, it’s good, not great. Dean has a point. Maybe not to the extent he wants to go, but a point anyway.”  
Harry smiled and nodded to the comment.  
“Okay, moving right along. The next one is how are you are going to provide for your wife and family in the future?” Answering his own question Seamus rolled in with, “That’s dead easy. Mean, Harry will be a professional Quidditch player. You can’t get any better than that!”  
“Well, I don’t know about that.” Neville said thoughtfully. “Being a professor here at Hogwarts might not pay the same, initially, that is. Since you can’t play Quidditch as long as being a professor, I think Hogwarts might pay better in the long run. And you are home most nights. And less chance of getting your block knocked off.”  
“Neville, you’ve never really liked Quidditch, have you? Seamus fired back.  
“Not my cup of tea. Don’t mind following the games, even go to watch. To say I’m a hardened fan like you are, then no.”  
“Ha! Thought so.” Seamus said feeling justified.  
“I think Harry should be a Quidditch player.” Lee Jordan added. “Why not? Harry’s good and will do better under Krum. Yes he will be gone during the season. I’m sure Ginny would understand.”  
And that was what bothered Harry. After all he had been through, the thought of long hard practices, games both home and away, and more practices as he is still very green. And then there was the game. Being a seeker meant getting chased by hardened Quidditch players’ hell bent in doing serious harm. That sort of bothered him, not as much as being away from Ginny. In Harry’s book marriage is between him and Ginny. Not between him and a Quidditch team. He wanted to spend time with his wife, not a bunch of hard hitting smelly Quidditch players who want to go out all the time and party until the wee hours of the morning.  
“Look,” Harry started with, “I’m still working on it.” Seeing a way out of getting too committed Harry added, “Really need to go over it all with Ginny. Once I am allowed to see her again.” Neville knew a dodge when he saw one and he was seeing one now. The others missed the ruse.  
“So, with Quidditch money you are good to support Ginny and family, right?” Seamus asked glancing up at Harry.  
Nodding in agreement Harry came back with, “Sure, right. Mean, that should be great. What’s next?”  
“Hang on a moment,” Lee Jordan said, “What if Mr. Weasley wants to look in Harry’s account at Gringotts? Is that still allowed?”  
Quickly scanning the pages Seamus said slowly, “Seems so. Don’t know how Mr. Weasley would know Harry has an account or not. But it says it is a valid question and only a trip to Gringotts will answer that one.”  
“Why does anyone want to look into a vault?” Terry Boot queried, “Means nothing. Like I could put money in before the visit and take it out after the visit?”  
“Ahh, is that being legal, decent, honest and truthful?” Neville asked, “Or do you want to start lying even before you are married? Maybe not the right footing for a long lasting marriage.” Looking at Harry for support, Neville asked, “That’s not your style, is it Harry?”  
Harry thought for a moment then replied with, “That’s the beginning of the slippery slope to Voldemort. Start off small. Then it grows and gets easier and easier. Before too long there is no difference. Seen that dead end and don’t fancy it. Look where it got him?”  
The picture Harry had just painted was all too real to everyone. They had seen it up close and seen the destruction one man can cause. They understood what Harry was driving at and where it all started. The first step is always the simplest step, the smallest step, the least worrying step. The step that leads into the wide road to no where.  
“Okay, so we can take it you can provide for Ginny and family?” Harry nodded and Seamus carried on with, “Next question, and this is a good one, have you cared for a baby before?” Seamus raised his eyes from the book to see Harry with a blank face. “Come on Harry,” Seamus said quickly, “You have to have picked up a baby at least once in your life?” Slowly, ever so slowly Harry shook his head. A shocked Seamus asked, “No as in never no?”  
“Never picked one up ever. The Dursley’s didn’t know anyone with a baby.”  
“What about people roundabout where you lived?”  
“Yeh, babies there, no one we knew.”  
“Oh boy, this is bad, really bad.”  
“Oh come on, how can you go through life never picking up one baby?” Anthony Goldstein said in a surprised tone. “I’m the youngest so have loads of nephews and nieces.”  
“So, they married Jews?”  
“Yep every one of them. Some took years to find someone, but they all did. Even found one, no two from Persia.”  
“So you are okay handling a baby?”  
“Had to as I baby sit a lot during the summer. It’s easy so long as you do baby stuff and don’t mind the mess and babies can be messy.”  
“Not me. Not one. Not ever.” Was Harry’s plea.  
“Looks like we have to work on that between now and Monday. Don’t worry Harry, we can do it.  
“Not worried about you lot, I’m worried about me!” Exclaimed Harry.  
“Need to teach Harry some baby songs, just in case like.” Piped in Michael Corner.  
“Good idea. That would impress me.” Anthony Goldstein said.  
“Who else has never handled a baby?” Asked Harry as he glanced about the room. Nobody put a hand up. “Oh. I guess it’s a family thing.”  
“Moving right along. Next question is where do you like going on holidays and why?”  
“Oh, come on, this is useless,” Harry said in agitated despair, “You lot know I’ve never been on holiday with the Dursley’s and you know I was stuck there every summer. So, no I don’t have any favorite place and no favorite reason why.”  
“You did day trips, didn’t you?”  
“Yeh, only local stuff.”  
“Well, start from there. What was your favorite day trip?”  
“Southend-on-Sea.” Harry said in a sure voice. “That was a good place. Went there when I was about ten. Old enough to understand and enjoy things”  
“Tell us about it.”  
“Okay,” Harry said as he got his ducks in a row. “It was supposed to be Dudley’s birthday surprise. Trouble is, he is such a cry baby that he knew all about it before we went. Anyway… As usual I was threatened with hell and damnation if I put one toe out of line. Funny that, Mr. Dursley never hit me. Raised his hand loads of times, just never hit me or his son. So one day the car was nice and shiny and it was a good summer’s day that we headed off to Southend-on-Sea. Bit of a drive to the other side of London. It was okay as Dudders was reading through his pile of Beano, and Dandy comics. With him quiet I could look out the window at the passing world. I’d often wondered what it would be like to be out there without the Dursley’s.  
“Mr. Dursley couldn’t find a parking spot along the seashore road and had to park up the hill. That was fine for me but bad for Mr. Dursley and Dudders. Mrs. Dursley was fine as she was so skinny. I ran down the steep path through the parks. Always kept an eye on the Dursley’s. That way the didn’t give me the slip. I often thought they’d try one day. Never did, just thought they might.  
“So romped about the park while the Dursley’s got down to the sea side road. Of course we had to visit the pier. I mean, everyone has to visit and walk it. Sadly the trolley that goes to the end was broke but Dudders took off after a toffee apple man with his parents dutifully following. I think Dudders got two toffee apples going and three coming back. I took off to be in front. I loved the sea air blowing us about. I ignored the Dursley’s as I pretended I couldn’t hear them as I kept away from them. Great time watching people fishing from the pier and the smell of the sea. It was pretty good. Very tiring on poor old Mr. Dursley. He isn’t used to walking. Cars are more his style. Dudders was too busy going through his toffee apples to care about anyone else.  
“Once at the end we had to rest while Mr. Dursley ‘caught his breath.’ And then Dudders spotted the ice cream man. He had to have a double 99, followed by a refill.  
“I went to the up wind side of the pier. That way I couldn’t hear the Dursley whine. That’s when I looked over the side and into the sea. The waves were rolling in with some white caps. It was fascinating to watch the waves never stopping, always moving, and constantly crashing against the shore. And that’s when I saw the dolphin down there. It was just playing about. Rolling with the waves and splashing the water with his flipper. Then he noticed me and gave me a wink before back to playing about.”  
“A wink? You really mean a wink?” Michael said in amazement.  
“Yeh, I mean a wink. Took me by surprise to. Thought I imagined it when it happened again followed by a wave of his flipper. Then another dolphin came by and poked the first one, shook his head and they both took off.”  
“That’s really cool Harry, really cool.”  
“Looking back it was cool. Didn’t think so at the time. Mean, I didn’t know I was a wizard. Having odd things happen to me, and with no one to talk to, made things very difficult.” Harry let out a hard laugh at his predicament at such a young age.  
“Then I lead the way back down the pier. Always close enough to the Dursley’s… just in case, and far enough away not to hear their constant griping. Even on holiday they were always bickering at one another. Never did understand that.”  
“Me Ma was like that, “Seamus said sadly, “She once said if she didn’t fuss at pa he would think she didn’t love him.”  
“Is that reverse logic?” Neville asked. No one replied. Logic is not taught at Hogwarts.  
“Hang on a moment,” Harry said as he remembered an IEEE Spectrum magazine he once picked up at the library one summer when things were slow at the Dursley’s. “I think you mean reverse Polish notation.”  
Neville shot Harry an odd look as if to say, ‘I don’t have a clue where you are going and I think you are going alone.’  
Seeing a lull in the action Seamus came in with, “Anything else you want to add?”  
“The only good thing about the trip was the bumper cars.” Harry said as a smile crossed his face.” Dudders wanted to go on the bumper cars and there was nothing his parents could do to persuade him not to do it. Once the bumper cars stopped Dudders bounded over to the nearest car and jammed himself in. No need for a safety belt as he was going nowhere. Seeing what happening I stayed close. Once the power came back on Dudders was off going the wrong way yelling at every one to get out of his way. Then one of the fairground workers jumped on Dudders car and tried to get him going the right way. That was a bad move as Dudders pushed, scratched and hit out at the kid. In retaliation the fairground worker hit Dudders just the once, hard on the head. Seeing the assault on his son Mr. Dursley took off at high speed to save his son. The problem was the power was still on. Mr. Dursley grounded out the entire bumper ride and fell to the ground wriggling in pain. Well that brought out Mrs. Dursley to be with her husband while Dudders could not get out of the bumper car. He was just too fat.  
“To cut a long story short, the fire brigade had to come and cut Dudders out of the bumper car. Mr. Dursley and Dudders ended up in hospital for the night while Mrs. Dursley and me hung about in the waiting area.”  
“No way! No one’s that stupid.”  
In a somewhat cold tone Harry replied with, “You’ve never lived with the Dursley’s. Outwardly model citizens, inwardly empty of any common decency.” Then Harry said, “Let’s move on. I’ve got nothing more to add except it was the quietest ride home we’ve ever had.”  
“Okay,” Seamus said as he scanned the book. “Next question is how many kids do you want to have and what will their names be?”  
Terry blurted out, “Are you kidding! Are you really saying that’s in that book of yours?”  
Seamus held up the book for all to see and pointed to the question. Then he read on quoting, “‘The number of children is a direct reflection of the parents and grandparents. Children are a blessing to be enjoyed in this life and the times to come. The children’s names usually reflect family names handed down from generation to generation. New names are frowned upon as they may introduce oddities in future generations. Therefore, traditional names are the best unless over used and creates confusion to whom you are addressing.’ See that’s why you better have something ready.”  
“Ginny and I haven’t got that far.”  
“Harry, that’s not the right answer.” Seamus said. “If you haven’t got that far, make something up and make it sound good. Like, how many kids are you thinking of?”  
Harry opened and closed his mouth several times as he was having difficulty thinking and talking at the same time.  
“Come on Harry, think of a number between one and ten.”  
“Five,”  
“Why five?”  
“Why not five?”  
“Okay, let’s go with five… and their names will be?”  
“John, Paul, George and Ringo with Harry as the first.”  
“Those are all boys, what about girls?”  
“Marianne, Lulu, Judy, Cathy and Dusty.”  
“No way Harry, you made that lot up.” Neville said.  
“Course I made them up. You told me to. So, did it sound good?”  
“Harry, you are so full of it. But yes, it sounded good. You think Mr. Weasley will see right through you?  
“Don’t know. Got to have something ready.”  
“Okay,” Seamus said very cautiously. “I think you better have another go at the names. What you just zipped through sounds shaky. Like I think you just made that lot up.”  
“I did!”  
“Well, that’s how it sounded to me. Made up with no thought behind them.”  
“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” Harry said thoughtfully. “They are good names. Saw them in old copies of NME.” Then Harry rolled along with, “If I’ve learnt something its wizard’s ways are not the same as muggle ways. For example, muggles think about the game of love while wizards think about the plan of happiness. Muggles think the purpose of a man is to love a woman. And the purpose of a woman is to love a man. Wizard’s think marriage is about families. Muggles think about today and having fun while wizard’s look at it from the beginning and the long term prospective.”  
“That’s pretty profound Harry,” Seamus said, “You remember that and pop it on Mr. Weasley and you might get some points. Or, better still… I’ll remember it and use it one day.”  
“Any other names, Harry?” Someone asked.  
“Yeh, I could go with Peter, Paul, Mary and a few others.”  
“Okay, Harry. Hang on a moment. When you say the names, pause between them like you have put some serious thought into them. Don’t zip through them that fast.”  
“Should I look down or up when saying the names?” Harry asked.  
“Up, always up.” Neville said in a sure tone. “People like it when you look up. People think you are more smart when looking up.”  
“Okay, let’s keep moving on.” Seamus said, “Next question is, where do you want to live once you are married and on your own?” Seamus reread the question quietly to himself and then let out a chuckle. “Did any of you lot get it? It says ‘when you are on your own.’ That means you are not living at home. See how sneaky that question is? I like it, I really like these sneaky ones as you have to be ready for them.  
“Who wants to live at home once you are married?” asked Ernie. “Mean to say, why hang about at home… what for?”  
“Unless I marry someone from Jamaica I’d never get good food again. That’s one good reason for living at home.”  
“The food?”  
“Yeh, why not?”  
“You can get great Jamaican food in London. Loads of places there.”  
“None as good as mum’s.”  
“How do you know? You been to every shop?”  
“Of course not, just that I like the way mum does it.”  
“I have nothing about living at home once I’m married.” Anthony said. “Seems okay to me. Actually it took several years before my oldest brother moved out. I think it was their second kid that did it. Mum and dad said enough was enough and then booted them out the door. Okay, figuratively speaking. Being at Hogwarts saved me from baby sitting all the time. And once summer comes I make sure I an on trips to Israel. No babysitting there as I was working in a wizard kibbutz.”  
Since no one knew what a kibbutz was, no one asked Anthony for an explanation… and the conversation died a little until Seamus looked at Harry and said, “Well, where will you go?”  
Harry was quiet for a moment or two, then said, “It would be dead easy to live at 12 Grimmauld Place as it is mine and Kreacher did a great job cleaning it up and getting the windows open so the sun could shine in. Looks a lot different from the first time I went there.”  
“So what’s with the long face?” Neville asked.  
“It’s a long way from Ginny’s parents’ house.”  
“So what? You are a wizard and can pop over whenever you like.”  
“Grimmauld Place is in London and that’s close to the Ministry of Magic.”  
“Oh come on Harry they ain’t got it in for you. You saved everyone…”  
“Then why was I dragged into court the other day? Why did I get charged after, as you say, I’ve saved the world? What is going on then? You tell me that.”  
“Look Harry,” Neville said, “None of us expected that to happen.”  
“Nor did I. I thought once Tom was dead things would get back to normal and we could move on. Guess I was wrong.”  
“No, Harry, you were right.” Neville said in a quiet tone, “Thing are back to normal, just that we’ve been living at Hogwarts where things were not normal… if you know what I mean. Now we’ve graduated we are joining the world and not exactly excited by what we are seeing. Trouble is we can’t go back. We have to take our place in the world and make the best of it. You can go and play Quidditch or teach. I can go into plants and the others are off like Professor McGonagall said at graduation. We have to move forward.”  
“So why the court thing then?” Fumed Harry.  
“Don’t know. Maybe you should go ask Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sure he should know.”  
“You think he would talk to me? So why wasn’t her there to stop it going ahead? He could have done something to help. But no! Sat on his thumb and let me stew. That’s why I don’t exactly like the Ministry of Magic. They look after them selves first and everyone else last. And remember how hard it was to tell them Riddle was back? Every time we raised it they said we were lying or Professor Dumbledore was trying to get the top job? Quick to condemn and slow to help… that’s what I think.”  
The others know how Harry felt; few had actually heard him fume like that.  
Then Michael said, “Look if it will help I can talk to my uncle Geraldine Zamboni. He works at the Ministry.”  
“What does he do?” Neville asked.  
“Don’t know, just that he works there and makes it all sound very important.”  
“You mean you’ve never asked?” Neville shot back.  
“Ah, not really. What he says sounds really boring so I tune him out and just nod at the right time.”  
Seeing Michael squirming, Harry said, “Why not. Can’t hurt. Pop over and see what he does and see how my name goes over.”  
Michael beamed at Harry and said, “Thanks Harry. I can do that.”  
“I know you can.” Harry said, then asked, “What’s next? Must be getting close to the end of the book.”  
Seamus shot Harry a look then said, “No way. Only got started. Those are the big and easy ones. The rest are the small and really rough ones.”  
“Like?”  
“Okay. This is the biggie. Who will look after the family fiancés?”  
“Me, I suppose.” Was Harry’s unsure reply.  
“Exactly!” Seamus said. “You aren’t sure, are you?”  
“Haven’t talked it over with Ginny yet: have I”  
“But you think it is you.”  
“Why not?”  
“Why should it be?” Then Seamus added, “The book says this, ‘The vast majority of family discord will occur over the question of family fiancés. It is imperative that the couple work out who controls the family fiancés. Will it be a spendthrift, a tightfisted person or something in between? Whatever the decision is, family harmony will best be achieved through proper and prudent family financial control. And one of the most prudent methods is a family budget and financial documentation.’  
“Being Jewish we have a reputation for being tightfisted.” Anthony said to no one in particular. “After living here at Hogwarts and going to Glasgow so often I think I can honestly say the Scottish people are tighter than any Jewish family I know.”  
“What do you mean by tightfisted?” Asked Ernie.  
“Someone who is very prudent with their pennies, ha’pennies and farthings.” Neville said in a hard voice as he thought about his Scrooge grandmother in muggle terms. That’s when Harry remembered all the times he was with the Weasley’s and noticed certain looks between the parents whenever the topic of finances and the cost of things were and how they were going to pay for school supplies. And how Ron only had hand-me-down stuff. Slowly Harry could see the importance of handling money carefully and not go about handing out bag loads of money to people. Ginny might not be too impressed when she finds out that it was himself that set up her two brothers in a joke shop. That snap decision might come back to haunt Harry when they have children of their own.  
That’s when Harry got up, shook himself into shape and said, “I’m off to bed. Think I need a break: a break to think about things.” Then he added, “I think tomorrow I’m going for a walk. Clear my head and get ready for next week. See you lot tomorrow night” And with that Harry headed to his bed while his head rattled with questions and answers with every answer chasing a specific question. The rattling didn’t stop until Harry was fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thursday May 21, 1998**

 

British Quidditch stadiums are untidy, full of Greeks, Ishmaelites, cats, Italians, tomatoes, restaurants, organs, coloured stuff, queer names…

Attributed to John Galsworthy

 

Sleep was hard to leave behind when dawn broke. Harry wanted to be up early so he could make an early start to the day. As he lay there, hands tucked behind his head, thinking about Ginny and all the reasons for marrying her, life looked good, really good. He enjoyed these quiet moments as they came so infrequently these days. So Harry decided to stay in bed a little longer so he could think some more about Ginny, his Ginny.  
Seeing the sun rays moving across the floor, reluctantly Harry got up and dressed in muggle clothes of jeans, tee-shirt and a hoodie as it was time to face the past. He had been wrestling with the fact that his old home was still standing and not the bombed out shell he had been lead to believe for so many years.  
With Ginny out of the way, so to speak, Harry felt it was time to face his old home, and it would be best to face it alone as it was his parents that died there seventeen years ago.  
Harry left Hogwarts and headed past the Whomping Willow tree and wondered for the umpteenth time why someone put the tree in the middle of a nice open space. Then again that tree wasn’t exactly nice to anyone. Harry gave it a wide berth as he headed to the railway tracks. Once across he could disapparate safely and did so only to appear on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow.  
Harry had been to Godric’s Hollow once before, with Herminie, last Christmas. That was a spectacular blunder of hope over reality. Harry was very lucky Herminie was there to bail him out of trouble once again. The visit was hectic and at night that he didn’t have enough time to properly explore the area. This time he set aside a complete day to wander about.  
Godric's Hollow is a small village on the west side of Somerset in the Taunton Deane area. A quiet area far away from the rabble that goes to Glastonbury every year.  
For some reason Harry was awake during the history lesson that discussed Glastonbury and its connection to King Arthur, the Holy Grail and Joseph of Arimathea. Rather than rely on faded memories, just before bed, Harry gave Bathilda Bagshot’s history book a quick read.  
The quiet lane Harry apparated into was an old Roman road. He knew it was a Roman road since it was straight as far as the eye could see in both directions. Seeing the church spire he headed in that direction. As he walked he jingled the few muggle coins he had on him when Hagrid came and took him to Hogwarts so long ago.  
May in the English countryside was cheerful with things growing, rich colours, blue sky with light clouds, and the view of new sheep growing up around their mothers. He was definitely far from the madding crowd in this part of quiet West Country. That is until he heard the toot-toot of some idiot going too fast down the lane. Harry turned to see some old open car, the ones with huge headlights, high seats, and the driver dressed in a flat cap, thick scarf, coat, gauntlets and goggles covering his eyes. The toot-toot got louder and louder as the speeding car came pell-mell right at Harry. There was only one thing for it and that was to jump into the hedge to avoid getting run down on a quiet country lane.  
After the speeding automobile had gone by Harry extracted himself from the hedge much to the amusement of several rabbits that were standing on their back feet observing everything that had just happened.  
Muttering under his breath Harry said, “And what are you looking at?”  
The largest rabbit replied with, “Watching you dive out of the way.”  
Well that stopped Harry right in his tracks. He quickly looked about. There was no one in sight. So he asked the rabbit, “You talking to me?”  
The rabbit looked around, just like Harry did and said, “Don’t see anyone else, do you?”  
Harry was about to say ‘rabbits can’t speak’, when he remembered speaking to several snakes in the past. So he thought, ‘What’s the difference? Snakes, rabbits, owls, Merpeople… all the same’. “Okay, so you can talk,”  
“And you can talk. Snap!” the rabbit replied in a cheeky tone. Then pointing at Harry’s hoodie, “Hawthorn spikes on your left side. Better get them out before you stick yourself.”  
“Oh, thanks.” Harry said as he took off his hoodie to give it a close inspection.  
“And what is the great Harry Potter doing in these parts of the country. All we hear is you and Hogwarts. Or you up in London. Never hear of you walking down a country lane getting run over by a maniac.”  
“Almost getting run over.” Harry interjected.  
“We would have saved you if you hadn’t jumped out of the way. Would not want people to say Harry Potter died down a Somerset lane one quiet morning. Wouldn’t do for our reputation of being friendly to bond and free, male or female, rich or poor. All are welcome to this part of the world.”  
“Well thanks,” Harry said somewhat taken back by the very friendly reception. Then quickly added, “No snakes lurking about, is there?”  
“Not this time. We tried to warn you last time but you came in under cover of snow and we don’t go out much in the winter. Once we knew you were about it was too late. Rabbits against a wily snake like Nagaini is not good: we tend to be loose every time.”  
“You knew I was here?”  
“Eventually, like I said it was snowing and snow has a tendency of covering magical people making it hard to track them.”  
“Track them?”  
“Yes, track them. Wherever a witch or wizard goes there is a slight trail of magic that we with sensitive noses can follow. Some call it ‘magic dust’, ‘magic trails’ or even ‘trax’, while little children tend to call it ‘pixy dust’. Either way, we can follow it.”  
“You know, I can’t believe I’m here in a field talking to a rabbit.”  
“Well, who do you think have been keeping an eye on your old place? Well, tell me that? Us, of course. We knew, one day, you would be back. Thought it would have been sooner once Voldemort was done in. That’s okay, at least you are here. I am correct in assuming you are here to take ownership of your house? You know there have been a few enquiries about the location. Some tacky wizard from Transylvania with no sense of proportion wanted to bulldoze your old house and put up something made of steel and glass. Totally out of line and was shot down by the Ministry. A very contentions hearing indeed. In the end common sense and your good name won the day and here you are.”  
“So you lot have been looking after the house?”  
“Under Professor Dumbledore’s orders. Gave it to my distant relative when you left the house. Our job has been to help your old house-elf to keep it spick and span for you.”  
“I have a house-elf?”  
“Orcus is rather aged so we help. He has been with the Potter family for ever. Knows all the family stories, and, as they say, never forgotten one yet.”  
Harry’s face said it all. To be able to talk to someone who knows his past and the past of other Potter’s was hard to fathom since he felt he was alone in the whole wide world.  
The rabbit added, “Orcus has a young understudy named Purdy. She has been with him for a while as she has a lot to learn from Orcus. The general consensus is Orcus is old and not long to live. Sorry I must be the bearer of sad news. On the brighter side he does remember you and how you used to throw up all over the place. It was his responsibility to clean up after you. Seems you had a delicate stomach in your younger days. Did you know that?”  
“Ahh, bit before my time.” Harry said.  
“Just as well we don’t remember everything that happened in the past.” The rabbit said with bit of a chuckle. “One question. Why did you jump into the bush?”  
“There was a car coming right at me.”  
“Of course, a car.”  
“Yes, a car.”  
“Right… A car. And you are a world famous wizard.”  
“Yes.”  
“Who knows all sorts of magical spells, enchantments, hexes and flies on a broom.”  
That was when the penny dropped. Harry realized he chose to jump into a rather thick hedge than use magic to get out of the way of the oncoming car. A smile went across his face. Then Harry started to chuckle. And finally Harry started to laugh at the incongruous situation he found himself in. A simple movement spell would have worked fine. Or a squeeze or shrink spell. Rather than act like a well trained wizard he acted like a true muggle and jumped into the hedge.  
“Okay, I see your point.” Harry said to the rabbit once he had calmed down a bit.  
“Why don’t you fix yourself up and go along and see Orcus.” The rabbit said, “He has been anxiously awaiting your arrival. And, looking at your present appearance, I think he will not be too pleased. He said you were a rather untidy baby. Maybe things haven’t changed too much in the intervening years.”  
Harry started to tidy up his jeans, tee-shirt and hoodie. The bush had done a number on them. After a good ten minutes Harry felt he was somewhat presentable and said, “Thank you Mr. Rabbit for your help. Next time I think I can make a better entrance into this part of the world.”  
The rabbit nodded then gave a small wave, and added, “See you about, Professor Potter.” With that Harry found a style to climb over and back into the lane. As he walked along he could see various rabbits out with their small ones. It almost seemed to Harry that the older ones were pointing out Harry to the small ones. Every now and again he would catch a word or two, when the wind was in the right direction, saying ‘There goes the famous Professor Potter. He’s back in the village.”  
The village of Godric's Hollow is not mentioned in the Doomsday Book as it was hidden by the wizards that lived there. They had no desire to fall under the French thumb. The church dates from 650A.D. and was dedicated by the Venerable Bede in his younger days. In front of the church is a village square that used to be used twice a week for the local market. When the wizards went underground the market dwindled to one a week and then to special days only. By the 1950’s the village square was a council car park for the bludgeoning car owners. Nowadays the car owners are day trippers in their fancy cars trying to get a bit of the true English country feel by drinking and eating at the local pub and watching the world go by.  
In front of the church was a fine Portland stone obelisk erected, ostensibly, to remember the fallen of WWI and WWII. As any witch or wizard approached the obelisk turned into a statue of the Potter family to commemorate the loss of James and Lilly and the survival or Harry. Even though Harry stopped in front of the statue, he felt very uncomfortable being memorialized like that. He preferred to remember his parents as living people rather than stone. Shaking the feelings away Harry moved on.  
The village boasted a post office that doubled as a general grocery shop. The post office was a gathering place for the elderly as they came to get their pension every Thursday. They would take their money and buy their groceries and carry them back to their homes. Most people bought only for the day as that gave them an excuse to get out and wander down to the shop and meet others doing the same. Life had a slow pace at Godric's Hollow.  
There used to be a butcher in the village. A combination of dwindling numbers coupled with the health movement away from beef and sausages to healthy greens and veggies all combined to close the butcher’s shop.  
The other shop of note was the defunct garden center cum hardware shop cum farming implement place.  
Even though the post office had a generally good selection of food, nothing could touch the busy bakery cum coffee shop. Harry could see this was the place to be at early in the morning. There was a good mixture of farm workers getting ready for the day and older people sitting about gossiping away while they nursed their cup of coffee, coco or whatever they were drinking. Every time someone walked in the door bell would tinkle and people would turn to see who it is. The greetings were generally good natured.  
As Harry walked through the village he noticed several witches with children in tow heading toward a short street off the square. Witches and wizards were easy to spot. Not so much by their clothing and brooms in hand, more from their ability not to be seen by muggles. There was something about them that made seeing them virtually impossible to muggles. Harry could clearly see the difference as the two groups went about their daily business.  
Since Harry did not have breakfast at Hogwarts he was feeling a bit puckish so he headed to the bakery for a raisin muffin with real cream, real double Devon cream, if he could get it, and a tall glass of milk. Something simple and oh so muggle.  
The door bell jingled as he entered. Heads turned as he made his way to a small table at the back as all the window seats were taken. He eased into the chair as Pete came over to the table and handed Harry a well used breakfast menu. Without looking Harry gave his order. Once written down Pete gave Harry a closer look then asked, “You a Potter?”  
Harry looked up, blinked and said calmly, “Yes, I’m a Potter.”  
Turning to the kitchen Pete yelled out, “Hay Dud, guess who’s back in town?”  
Dud came to the kitchen door, wiping his hands on a dirty wash rag, and said, “What are you yelling about?”  
“Look Dud,” Pete said, “It’s a Potter. They’re back.”  
Glumly Dud said, “Means more ruddy muffins, don’t it? Always muffins with that Potter lot. Expect he wants cream with it? Never changes. Ever since we opened the place, ruddy muffins and cream. Raisins as well, I expect. Nothing changes. Okay, how many this time? A dozen or two?”  
“On his own so only two.”  
“Only two? What’s the matter with ‘em? Sick or something? Okay two it is. And a tall glass of milk I suppose. Have to prime the cow to get going. Ruddy Potters eat too many muffins and drink too much milk.” Dud started to turn then asked, “Still on Channel Island milk or this watered down muck?”  
Harry quickly added he wanted the real milk and that satisfied Pete and Dud.  
The rumpus was well heard by everyone in the bakery. One old lady asked, “Are you any relation to James Potter? Such a lovely family we had here a long while ago? He was married to a gorgeous looking Lily. I think they even had a small boy. Any relation?”  
Somewhat embarrassed by it all Harry replied, “Yes, I’m the son.”  
“Oh my, I would never have guessed after all these years. We wondered what happened. Here and then suddenly gone. Then the house burnt down. Such a shame, and she was so good at the Women’s Institute. So fast with a needle and thread. Could mend anything she could.”  
Then an old gent popped up with, “The man was no good at gardening. Anything he touched failed. No green thumb there. More of a brain that a worker he was. Good with cars though. Got my Ford Prefect going such a treat.”  
“Oh Arthur, you and that old Ford Prefect… it was a pile of junk.”  
“You mean the car with the big dent in it?” another old man asked.  
“Just because it has a big dent in it, don’t mean it didn’t go.”  
“It did not go until nice Mr. Potter fixed it for you.” The old lady reminded Arthur.  
Thinking about it Harry asked, “How long did it take my father to get it fixed?”  
“You father is it? Yes, I can see the resemblance. You any good with cars? Have a real fixer-upper waiting for someone. Lotus 7. Got it from some old TV show. Been stuck in the garage for years. Lovely piece of work that. British racing green and a yellow nose.”  
“Arthur,” the old lady gently said, “The young man asked how long did it take to fix?”  
“Fix what?”  
“Fix the Ford Prefect?”  
“Oh that. Not long… about a week or two. He’d come over in the afternoon and got to work. Good with his hands. Never know it by looking at his hands. Too smooth you’d think. But he knew what he was doing and got on with it.”  
Then the lady asked, “And when can we expect your parents back in the village?”  
Harry knew about the spell hiding wizard graves from muggles. It avoided some questions but opened up the conversation, as it did here, to other ones. Trying to keep a happy face Harry lied with, “They emigrated to Australia. He became a dentist and has settled in Adelaide.”  
“Oh dear, such a pity. Oh well… At least you didn’t pick up that terrible Australian accent. I think it is such a whining noise. Not at all like New Zealand or the nice South African accent. Sadly all we get is radio 4 and the midland accent. Such a change from the proper BBC accent I grew up with.”  
Then Arthur put his hand on the lady’s arm and said, “Doris, I think young Potter here is more interested in eating than listing to your take on the state of accents in the Commonwealth.”  
Harry smiled as he tucked into his lovely fresh baked muffin and cream. It was hard not to rush such a good meal when you are feeling puckish. Once satisfied Harry pushed his chair back a little so he could stretch out. He liked the feeling of the place. He could see why his parents felt safe enough to interact with the local muggles.  
Obviously what was said about his parents was all new to him. His memory didn’t go back that far. In some ways he was glad about that, it avoided wallowing in the past.  
Harry paid at the counter by the door. It was an old mechanical one that had a solid sounding cha ching to it. As he put his change away, Pete said, “You back in town?”  
“Not this time, just here for a visit.”  
“Then I won’t start making loads of muffins for you then.”  
“Sounds good.” Harry said then asked, “Did Dud make the muffins?”  
“He does. He’s king of the kitchen. Going to be on some TV show called The Great British Bake Off. He’ll win, no problem. He’ll thicken up his accent and won’t shave, to give that rough manly look. That’ll do it.”  
“Well, good luck to him.” Said Harry before he walked out the door and headed off to the church yard. He wanted to pay his respects to his parents.  
Even though he had been there only once before, it was easy to find. Standing at the bottom of the grave Harry felt a strong desire to pull out the resurrection stone and give it a twirled. Fortunately temptation had been removed by his casting the stone away while in the forbidden forest. However, there was a twinge of desire to see his parents again; just one more time.  
Standing there he read the headstone from end to end and then repeated it all again and then once more. The inscription, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death” felt good. And in that feeling of goodness he knew it was a true and faithful saying because it lifted him up. He knew he would see his parents again and enjoy the familial bonds.  
Poking about Harry pulled out his own wand and, like Herminie, created a small wreath of flowers. He felt it was fitting and proper that they should be remembered here as well as in his heart.  
After a while of thought and contemplation Harry slowly moved about the graveyard looking for the graves or other Potter’s. As he strolled about he suddenly wondered if there was a genealogy on the Potter’s somewhere. Something to tie the several Potter graves together. Something to read so that he could better understand where he came from, how he fits in the Potter picture, and something he could hand down to his children. A feeling of so much to do and discover about his family swept over Harry. No matter how big the job, Harry knew he could do it because those that had gone on before were there to help.  
Harry took the road that lead out of town and toward his old home.  
As with Grimmauld Place so with his old home, it was hidden from muggle view. Harry walked a little circumspectly as he approached his old family home. The destruction looked profound while the graffiti covered sign looked out of place now Tom Riddle was gone.  
Harry opened the gate, walked up the pathway, and studied the door of the ruin. Harry immediately recognized the two intertwining snakes that formed the distinctive doorknocker. Before Harry put his hand on the doorknocker he reasoned through that since Professor Dumbledore was involved in this ruse, then it should be okay to do as instructed. Harry put his hand on the doorknocker and said, ‘Blubberworth.’  
The sudden rush of wind; the noise of the veil being lifted off the battle scarred house; the blacked building being revealed as a nice rural country cottage was startling to Harry… and it happened so fast he didn’t have time to react. In fact he just stood there absorbing the sudden transformation of his old home.  
‘Home.’ The actual word for this place. ‘His home’. ‘His parents home’. Even, ‘our home’. Those and every other permutation and combination zipped through Harry in a heart beat. Then the fact that he had not been here since the death of his parents sank home.  
Rather than stand on the doorstep he pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a good feel about the place. It was one of being enveloped in the arms of a dear loved one. Harry suspected it was the love his mother left in the house when she paid the ultimate price to save him from Lord Voldemort.  
Harry walked down the corridor and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Powerful emotions sent chills up and down his back. This, he knew, was where his father had fallen. A fallen, wandless father trying to buy a few slim seconds for his wife and son to escape. Harry knelt down and reverently touched the very spot. The last vestiges of his father rested here while Voldemort strode up the stairs. Likewise Harry went up the stairs and down the short corridor to the back bedroom.  
As he opened the door a wave of love flowed out and covered him in an instant. This, Harry knew, was the protection he received so many years ago. This was part of the bonds that ties a family together. This is why his mother knew her sacrifice would not be in vain. Indeed, there is nothing more powerful than the love of a mother for her children. Nothing on the face of the earth can ever match it in power and majesty.  
Harry sat in the same rocking chair that his mother used so many years ago. As Harry rocked away he began to wonder what would have happened if Riddle had not appeared. What would his life be like? What would life be like with a father and mother… something like the Weasley’s? Harry rocked away letting his mind wander about the possibilities. He was there for quite a while as it felt so good being there. Slowly his mind moved on the Ginny, his Ginny and how could they create an environment suitable for their children to grow up in. What he felt in his home is not something you can bottle up and sell: Mundungus excepted. Sitting there Harry was slowly realizing that having and raising a family is going to take work, hard work and lots of it. Then, casting his eyes about his old room, Harry knew he could do it with Ginny at his side.  
As Harry rocked in the rocking chair he closed his eyes and tried to remember the fragments of that night. The cries of his mother and the bright green flash being the main ones. It seemed too far, too remote, and then oh so real once he arrived at Hogwarts and his time there.  
Shaking himself into the present Harry quickly stood up, giving his eyes a wipe, then jamming his hands into his trouser pockets as he stomped about the room looking at the photos, stuffed toys and baby clothes neatly stacked on top of the changing table. Harry lifted up some of the clothing, his old clothing. Nothing registered.  
Then he retraced his steps down and into the front room. The first thing he noticed was two wands on an old oak wand rack positioned on the old side table. That was when Harry realized his father had a choice. Go for his wand or give his wife and child a chance of escaping.  
Harry flopped into a chair and silently shed tears of pathos as he came to realize his father chose to give his family a slim chance of escaping. And that chance meant facing Lord Voldemort without his wand. Something even Professor Dumbledore had never done.  
Then Harry thought of his mother, his ever loving mother. She did exactly the same. She placed her very self between Harry and death and accepted the outcome because she to was wandless.  
When the tears were all gone. When the heart was broken again. As he dwelt on the love his parents had for him. And as he realized the past was in the past and the future was yet to be written, Harry arose and walked over to the side table and moved his right hand over the two wands. The two wands that belonged to his parents.  
The affinity was immediate, intense, incentive, and incessant. But there was a different feel between the wands. Harry could feel the difference. That is when he closed his eyes and tried to understand the difference with his feelings just like Dumbledore interrogated the cave to find the onward entrance. This time Harry could feel the difference in a palpable way. The difficulty came when he tried to put his feelings onto actual words to describe the feelings. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find the right words.  
He picked up his mother’s wand first. His hand burst into a warm loving feelings. As he moved his hand the motions were smooth, careful, and direct. The affinity was comforting.  
Then he picked up his father’s wand. The feeling in his hand was powerful, direct, and more of a cutting feel to it. As he waved it about, Harry could feel the power if had.  
To say there was an affinity between Harry and his parents wands would be a simplistic understatement. Harry realized he should talk some more with Garrick Ollivander on the topic of handing wands down through future generations.  
After a long while Harry felt it was time to go. His emotions had been through the wringer and needed time to heal before coming back. And come back he would. He knew there were more things to discover about his brief family life.  
Harry took the two wands and placed them in a special place in his moleskin bag. As he closed the bag Harry had to smile. He was at the point of not being sure just how many wands he was carrying.  
As Harry closed the front door he placed his hand on the doorknocker. This time he could feel the magic it contained as well as heard the Parseltongue words of, ‘Welcome all who enter. This is the home of Salazar Slytherin: one of the legendary founders four.’ Harry quickly took his hand off the doorknocker. With hand in mid air, he whickl thought about the doorknocker that can talk… sort of. To test a theory out, Harry moved his hand closer to the knocker. This time there was nothing. He touched the knocker and felt nothing.  
Circumspectly Harry walked back down the path and carefully closed the gate behind him. As the house reverted back to it’s bombed out vision Harry suddenly remembered he had not seen Orcus, his old house elf or Purdy or any rabbits. Harry was half way tempted to go back to the house and look, then decided against it. The place was remarkably clean with everything in its proper place. Obviously someone was looking after the old house properly.


	18. Chapter 18

**Monday May 25, 1998**

 

Quidditch, or anything that seems likely to lead to a  
game of Quidditch, is always popular  
with the Diagon Alley mob.

Attributed to Herbert Asquith

 

Sleep was a rare commodity during the night. Harry pummeled his pillow trying to get a good location: it did not work. He tossed and turned trying to find a suitable spot on the mattress: it was not there. When he was hot he kicked off the covers. When he was cold, he buried himself under the eiderdown. Somewhere during the night Harry must have found some sleep. However, itwas not enough and not of a suitable quality to render him ready for the day. At 4:49 the day dawned and at five o’clock Harry was still lying on his bed staring straight up. He was wide awake dreading the day… actually all he was dreading was facing Mr. Weasley at 8 o’clock at the Burrow.  
Since there was nothing to do at that time of the morning Harry decided to kill time by playing Quidditch as that took his entire mind leaving no space to worry. He grabbed his broom and the Quidditch practice crate and headed down to the pitch. Dawn was happening all around him, but Harry was not interested in it, not today. Despite the sun creeping up it was still nice and cool as Harry walked to the center of the pitch and dropped the crate in the center of the circle. He set the dials on the crate, tightened his glasses on his face, and got ready. He was not interested in giving the snitch a head start; this was going to be a flat out dog-eat-dog war. Once ready he kicked the lid open and the snitch took off going right between Harry’s legs. Not the direction Harry was expecting and took him a split second to turn around and get after the fast disappearing snitch. Gritting his teath Harry put on speed. This time Harry was dressed in the new Chudley Cannons outfit, a one piece jump suit made of modified Slip-X material. The material was aerodynamically created to allow the player to cut through the air better than any knife through butter. With such a low wind drag ratio the brochure claimed the wearer had an easy one second advantage over any other player in regular clothing.  
Harry zoomed after the fast moving snitch and slowly clawed back an inch or two before the snitch reached the edge of the pitch up against the stands. Then the snitch turned sharp left and off it took going round the entire stadium three inches off the stand. The snitch did not twitch to the left or right, just going absolutely flat out. Harry was not gaining anything in this two horse race. Harry tucked close to the broom handle to cut down on drag. It helped him gain an inch or two, not much more. Then he stretched out along the broom to be more aerodynamic. Again Harry gained only an inch or two. Nothing good enough to catch this blue streak of a snitch.  
Then Harry reached for his own wand and fought the buffeting of the wind to clip his wand into its rightful place high up on the handle. Once in place Harry could feel the broom settle down to into a smoother flight. It was like the broom and the wand were talking together to give Harry the best flight possible. That was when Harry urged the broom to go faster. The broom responded and started to gain on the snitch.  
Harry kept on applying the speed as he kept a sharp eye on the snitch. Then, for one sliver of a second, Harry thought he saw the snitch turn and look at him. The look was one of disbelief. That bobble cost the snitch about 12 inches. Harry was gaining and unless the snitch had more speed it was going to loose this foot race.  
That’s when the snitch tried the very old Rudy Lopez move. Harry immediately countered with the Sicilian defense. Seeing that went nowhere, the snitch tried the French defense to which Harry cut in with the Caro-Kann defense. Then the snitch suddenly tried the Queen’s Gambit and Harry parried with the Purdey High Kick. Harry went a bit too early and almost lost the snitch, but recovered, just in time. Getting less creative the snitch tried the very simple English opening which Harry ignored as the snitch went into the Giuoco Piano. Of course Harry ignored the Evan’s Gambit as he came in behind the dodging snitch. Running out of options the snitch tossed out the Dutch defense while Harry positioned himself by using the newer Flanders Folly and gained. The horse race was getting closer and closer. And that is when the snitch went into a vertical spiral taking up the entire Quidditch pitch.  
Seeing the snitch was back to a horse race Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he had that golden snitch in his hand. Then again he was enjoying this different type of game: a game more of pure speed than bludgers, quaffle and rings.  
That’s when the spirals got tighter and tighter as the snitch went higher and higher. Harry tried to counter the effects of being dizzy by scooting about on the broom. It didn’t help. Actually he lost a inch or two because he was concentrating on something else, not the snitch.  
Sensing a change the snitch did the usual dodge all snitches do and that is to go into a vertical dive. Harry followed. In a vertical dive the snitch has two advantages. The first being smaller and more agile than Harry, the snitch can get closer to the ground before it has to pull out. With 360 degrees to choose from, the snitch has a clear advantage. The second being in a vertical dive the snitch changes its shape to that more of a golf ball as dimples appear over its golden surface. Dimples reduce drag, because of boundary layer physics, which means the snitch was slowly pulling away from Harry.  
Since all is fair in love and war Harry caused a bubble to develop about him and his broom. The bubble had dimples on its surface allowing Harry to negating one of the snitches advantages.  
On they streaked getting closer and closer to mother earth. No one slowed up and no one deviated from the course. With the snitch in front Harry was hoping the distance between the two of them would mean the snitch would have to make its move allowing Harry time to follow.  
The wand started to make the high pitched danger sound. It was doing all the calculating to make sure Harry didn’t go crashing into the ground. One wipeout that Harry might not recover from. The pitch was getting bigger and bigger as Harry was getting closer and closer. Then the alarm sound started to get chopped up. Harry knew that he was about the point of no return. If he didn’t pull up now, it would be too late to do so and survive.  
Just before Harry went zooming over the ground he noticed the snitch did not change its path and went nicely into the ground leaving a round hole behind. Harry did a loop coming back to ground right beside the hole. Knowing the survival instinct of the snitch, Harry got off his broom and put his hand over the hole. About two minutes later the snitch had worked its way out of the hole and nicely into Harry’s hand.  
Holding the snitch up to the morning light the round ball almost looked translucent. At a certain angle to the sun Harry could see the two spindles inside the snitch that gives it speed and direction. Around the circumference there was faint writing that said, As in Life, so in the game of Quidditch, skill will make something of the worst of moves. And in the blink of an eye it was all gone as the sun was still ascending and the angle had changed.  
What puzzled Harry was the choice the snitch made to slam into the ground rather than turn away at the last moment. That’s what he understood snitches were designed to do. So, why did this one do something different? The problem being Harry knew nothing about Quidditch lore. The obvious place to ask such questions would be Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley. Then Harry added 2nd Hand Brooms and Broomstix to the list of places to visit. Someone must know something about why the snitch acts like a snitch. With that Harry carried the snitch back to the crate where it turned the game to off and the snitch flew back to its spot in the crate. Harry closed and locked the lid and started heading off the pitch. That’s when he saw Viktor Krum standing to the side  
Knowing he wanted an answer Harry slowly went Krum’s way. When he was close enough Harry gave a short but casual, “Hi Viktor.”  
“What were you doing up their? Just following? Not attacking? Remember you are to attack and get in their face all the time. If not they will be you all over. And you loose. Not good. So, what were you doing? Tell me?”  
“Practicing.”  
“Practicing what?”  
“Getting used to the broom.”  
“And going too slow. That broom has speed much more. Look, I show you.”  
Harry handed the broom to Viktor’s outstretched hand. In a flash Viktor was gone. His speed was incredible as were his moves about the empty pitch. He looked so graceful, so effortless, so picture perfect to match the quality Quidditch player he was. He tucked down right beside Harry and said, “Let the snitch go and I show you.”  
Harry dropped the crate, dialed in the numbers and kicked open the lid hoping to catch Viktor on the hop. He did not. Viktor was too much a Quidditch player to be caught that easily. The snitch took off flying two inches from the ground heading to the centre ring. Viktor was right behind at three inches off the ground. The faster the snitch went Viktor not only matched but was closing in. Harry was wondering if the snitch would spiral up the center ring’s pole. In answer to his own question the snitch did exactly that. However, Viktor had anticipated such a move and cut the corner gaining three feet on the snitch. The snitch did tight spiral circles while going up the pole. Viktor did not and caught the snitch on its third revolution.  
The question in Harry’s mind was, how did Viktor know what the snitch would do so he could be in the right position at the right time?  
“That’s bloody brilliant,” a bedazzled Harry said as Viktor can back and handed the snitch to Harry.  
“As you will become under my tutelage.” Then as he handed the broom back Viktor added, “You have to mean it or the broom wins. If the broom wins you lose and the game is over. You want to be known for losing games?” Getting the right effect Viktor went on with, “The broom is like the wand. You get to know the broom as you get to know your wand. Takes time and practice. Okay, this is only a practice. You have to start now and keep going. No walking, you ride everywhere. You know what I mean by everywhere… do you?”  
Harry quickly replied with, “Even to bed! Then I can dream of flying in my sleep.”  
An amazed Viktor quickly said, “How you know of broom sleep? Who you talk to while I was gone? Tell me now!”  
“Nobody,” Harry lied to cover his guess. “It’s obvious from what you said last time. Even to bed. If you are doing that then, stands to reason, there is something there. Broom sleep makes good sense.”  
“Broom sleep is powerful with this broom. Added myself it. Works good. All preprogrammed to come on only when asleep. You like?”  
Harry groaned to himself. If the rotten broom was going all night long, when will he have time to dream of Ginny? Dreams were about the one little bit of freedom left to hold on to: and now Viktor wanted to take that smidgen of free time away and turn it into learning time. Harry was seriously wondering if Quidditch was everything it was cranked up to be.  
Then Viktor stuck out his hand and two seconds later his personal broom snapped into his hand. “Now we play a game. Just you and me. Just for practice. And if you like I let you go first. That way you get a head start. And maybe, just maybe, you get lucky and win.” Harry didn’t know what to say. To play against Viktor Krum under any circumstances was a great honor. And by going first he knew there was an oh so slight chance of winning. Seeing Harry vacillating, Viktor smiled and said, “What do you say to have a little fun, just you and me and this empty stadium?”  
Harry was just about to capitulate when there was a loud crack and Gossiter was there right in front of Harry. “Master, sorry to bother you at such an important time but it seems someone has turned off your Remembrall alarm.” Gossiter turned his head to face Krum and added, “I wonder who would do a thing like that when you have such an important meeting to attend?” Krum shrugged his shoulders and put on a face of surprise. “If we hurry we can get you ready and to the meeting on time. But we have to hurry Master as time is flitting by.”  
“Dirty tricks?” Harry quietly asked Gossiter.  
“Yes master,” Gossiter said in an emphatic tone. “Dirty tricks going on here.” And with that Harry turned, looked hard at the apologetic Krum, and headed out of the stadium with Gossiter at his side carrying the broom.  
As Harry was leaving the Quidditch stadium Krum yelled out, “Maybe some other time.” Then he added, “And don’t forget to let me know your decision.”  
Once out of earshot Harry asked Gossiter, “You think he planned that?”  
“If Master misses his Parlay of Harveture, Master might as well forget Miss Ginny and get lost in Australia. That’s how important it is. And if Master plays one game, and let’s say Krum looses to you and demands a replay and then best out of three… Master would have missed everything and be heading to Australia in disgrace. No one has ever married a wizard who missed his Parlay of Harveture.”  
“Are you saying…? No you aren’t. You are actually accusing Viktor of trying to sabotage my Parlay.”  
“I came because Miss Hermione was worried something might happen. Once she knew Krum was about she thought there might be trouble. We put her plans on hold to allow me time to come here and assist you at this delicate time.”  
Hi up in the stadium, hiding underneath a cloak of invisibility was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He to had seen all the proceedings and was glad he didn’t have to intervene. His little note to Miss. Granger seemed to have done the trick. Once the coast was clear he headed to Hogsmeade for a bite of breakfast. He always found breakfast tasted better the further away from the ministry he got.  
“I didn’t know you could turn a Remembrall off. I thought only the owner could.”  
“Simple device with low security settings that any hack with serious intentions could over come. Think of it this way, simple device requires only simple magic to get in. And yes Miss. Granger was thinking Krum might have been here with bad intentions in mind. She pointed out there is a constant pattern with Quidditch of bribery, corruption and nobbling the other side. With Krum chasing you there must be something in it. Since Miss Granger is a bit preoccupied at the moment she thought it best if I assist. And it seems she was right. If you missed your Parlay, I hate to say what would happen. That is all behind and we have time to get you ready.”  
The two of them marched into Hogwarts and up to the tower so Harry could change get ready and into his Minchkins the Marvel clothes.  
“Miss Granger thought this would be appropriate as she does say, ‘Impressions count.’ And I must say this is a time to impress.” Gossiter fussed over Harry while Harry was getting ready. At the end of it all Harry looked very impressive except for his hair. There was no magic powerful enough to keep it in place. Rather than fuss over it Gossiter let it pass. At least the rest of him looked good.  
“Good,” Gossiter said, “Plenty of time to get to Hogsmeade. Then you can disapparate and be on time. Miss Granger is all very excited about it all and hopes you are ready to talk Genealogy to Mr. Weasley. Seems to be one of his strong points.”  
Harry’s mind went blank as panic struck. Now he could see clearly why Australia had a strong appeal to people who are not ready. In that split second, Harry had joined the ranks of the unprepared. It was not a nice feeling as there was something bad churning in the pit of his stomach. Something wanting to get out and there was not enough time to be sick and get to the Burrow at the appointed time.  
Gossiter noted the colour on Harry’s face and quickly asked, “Are you okay?”  
“No,” was the definitive answer, “Too late to chicken out.” Turning to Gossiter Harry said, “Let’s get going.” Followed by a resounding, “I can do it!”  
Feeling better about life, Harry and Gossiter headed over the moist grass to Hogsmeade. Harry glanced at the shrieking shack wondering how his father would have done if he had to face Harveture. And that’s when Harry realized his father would not have been able to help as he never went through Harveture. With that Harry was determined to be able to assist his son when the time came. With renewed determination Harry stepped forward on his march to Hogsmeade.  
Once they reached the outskirts or Hogsmeade, Harry said to Gossiter, “Thanks, I owe you one.”  
“Such honor belongs to Miss. Granger. She is the one who asked me to come. She has eyes everywhere. Such a noble person. Oh yes, I almost forgot. Master Weasley is still in the dog house and is saying the dog house is too small and when will he be allowed out? Miss Granger is still thinking about it. Master Weasley sends his fondest regards and wishes you success.”  
With that Harry disapparated and a few seconds later was standing a little way from the Burrow. Harry scanned the area taking in anything of note or difference. The place seemed to have a shabby look. One of needing some work. Then the thought struck Harry, maybe this was going to be a work test, to see if he could put some life back in to the old place. Then he noticed no garden gnomes. No gnomes were a bad omen. Getting rid of one is a challenge. Getting rid of them all is something close to impossible as gnomes were so entrenched at the Burrow.  
With some trepidation Harry set off on foot through the garden towards the house. Just as he approached the house the clock started to strike 8 o’clock. With the last chime the door was flung open and out came Mr. Weasley ready for battle. He was dressed for outdoor work with a back pack where it belonged. “Well, young man, are you ready or are you ready?” Harry didn’t have the nerve to reply. “Cat got your tongue? Well never mind. Time to go. Put your hand on my arm and we shall go side-along. Things to do, Mister Potter, things to do!” And with that they disapparated.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The magic never dies!
> 
> Continue with the next book, "Harry Potter and the Harveture Conundrum". See you there.


End file.
